Podcast appearances and mentions of david lose

This week, Tom blows his load all over the motorway, David gets obsessed about the little things, and Chloe shares her tips about holding in her turtle head. So let's strap down, strap in, and let's do this!!http://patreon.com/JATP to support our channel.Check out Salmonslap.com to buy murchIf you are new to our Trucking Podcast, our hosts all have their own YouTube channels; Tom from Expect For Access, Chloe from Skip ChickDavid from My Trucking Skills.Nessa the Mother TruckerTom, Chloe, and Nessa have their class 1 licenses and drive their HGV in the UK. David, being an Irishman has only driven trucks in America (20 years). Chloe drives a skip truck, hence her name SkipChick, and Tom is a Tipper Truck Driver. We chat with other truckers, mainly drivers who have a social media presence, but all are welcome. It is a great fun time for all!!Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/just-another-trucking-podcast/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

HAPPY 15th BIRTHDAY, Sermon Brainwave! Join Profs. Karoline Lewis, Joy J. Moore, and Matt Skinner for a conversation on the Revised Common Lectionary texts for the Day of Pentecost on May 28, 2023. Watch the video version on Youtube. This episode also marks 15 years since Working Preacher published Sermon Brainwave episode 1 on texts for June 1, 2008. It's amazing to think back on that first recording session with Karoline, Matt and David Lose huddled around a Snowball mic. It's a great opportunity to give thanks for the people who have made this podcast (this ministry!) possible: Co-hosts: Rolf Jacobson, Karoline Lewis, David Lose, Joy J. Moore, and Matt Skinner Special guests: Walter Brueggemann, Tom Long, Anna Carter Florence, Will Willimon, to name a few… Behind-the-scenes staff: Dozens of staff and student workers who scheduled, recorded, edited, posted, promoted, etc. And of course, we're grateful for you, Sermon Brainwave listeners!

. Try researching on your own. Use some of the following resources to learn more.Making Sense of the Cross (2011) by David LoseWalk in Love: Episcopal Beliefs and Practices (2018) by Scott Gunn and Melody Wilson Shobe (especially chapters 11, 12, and 22).The Scriptures, the Cross, and the Power of God (2006) by Tom WrightSeven Last Words: An Invitation to a Deeper Friendship with Jesus (2016) by Jame MartinCross-Shattered Christ: Meditations on the Seven Last Words (2011) by Stanley Hauerwas You might be interested in other ChurchNext classes on the cross and the resurrection.Consider the following courses:Making Sense of the Cross, Part 1 with David Lose.Making Sense of the Cross, Part 2 with David Lose.Making Sense of the Cross, Part 3 with David Lose.Finding the Resurrected Jesus with Susan Goff.Walk in Love, Part 2: Marking Time with Scott Gunn and Melody Wilson Shobe.Walk in Love, Part 5: The Trinitarian Life with Scott Gunn And Melody Wilson Shobe.

Mother Teresa once said, “The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty -- it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There's a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”  I believe Mother Teresa's words are very insightful.  I, too, believe there is a deep yearning and spiritual hunger for God in our country and in our world, a hunger that simply seems to increase with the passing of time. Today's gospel reading tells the story of a man who has such a deep hunger for God.  In this story, Nicodemus comes to Jesus under the cover of darkness, and he is hungry.  He comes to Jesus during the night, and he has a spiritual hunger that is gnawing away at his very soul.  He has a hunger deep within, a hunger he cannot fully identify. Now, Nicodemus is a Pharisee, so he comes during the night when he will not be seen.  Yet, he comes wanting to find out more about Jesus and what Jesus is teaching.  Spiritually hungry Nicodemus does not understand the things Jesus has been telling him, so Jesus references a strange Old Testament story to make his point.  This old story by the way would have been very familiar to Nicodemus, good Pharisee that he was.  Jesus reminds him of the Israelites who, during their forty-year wilderness wanderings, had sinned.  They had grumbled about Moses and had grumbled about God, and they faced punishment.  In part, the punishment was being bitten by snakes.  The Israelites then cried out to God for deliverance and God used the strangest thing to save them.  Moses formed a bronze serpent, mounted it on a pole, and hoisted it upward.  When the Israelites looked at it, they were healed, they were saved from death from poisonous snakebites.  Strange as it seems to us, the Israelites were instructed to look upon this bizarre symbol of redemption to be relieved of the suffering they had brought upon themselves by their rebellion against God.  Anyway, Jesus then connects this bizarre story to himself as he continues to teach Nicodemus.  He draws an analogy between the “lifting up” of the Son of Man and Moses lifting up the bronze serpent in the wilderness.  Jesus says that, in like manner, the Son of Man must be “lifted up” so that “whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”  And, as he attempts to feed the gnawing hunger within the heart of Nicodemus, Jesus speaks words that have become some of the best-known, best-loved verses in all of scripture – John 3:16. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”  “For God so loved the world….”   For God so loved the world?  Just think about that.  When I think of the world, I see a small planet in the vastness of space.  And this miniscule dot of an insignificant planet that is barely even a speck in the vastness of space is our world, and it is so deeply, tragically broken.  On this planet, people are daily being shot on our streets. Mass shootings abound as guns have become idols. There is war in Ukraine and unrest in so many parts of this world. The United Nations estimates that 795 million people in the world literally go hungry and suffer from chronic undernourishment.  Economic injustice just continues to grow. There is no longer a day that goes by when we do not see some new manifestation of climate change, something we have brought upon ourselves. Hate and division seem prevalent in so many places within our culture. Dysfunction seems to rule in government, in our own communities, in our own families, and within our very selves!  The world is so very, very broken!  Yet, God so loved the world? Yes.  God so loves this world!  And, in the gospel of John the Greek word for “world” refers to the cosmos – to everything!  God so loves everything – the entire cosmos, the entire creation, this little, miniscule planet that is hardly a speck in the vastness of space, all the people, the land, the animals, the bugs, the world's goodness, and the world's deep brokenness.  David Lose, when blogging about this verse writes, the Greek word kosmos “designates throughout the rest of John's Gospel an entity that is hostile to God.  This means that we might actually translate these verses this way, ‘For God so loved the God-hating world, that God gave God's only Son…' and ‘God did not send the Son into the world to condemn even this world that despises God but instead so that the world that rejects God might still be saved through him.' Really – God's love is just that audacious and unexpected. Which is why, according to Paul, it probably seems both scandalous and a little crazy.  And that audacious, unexpected, even crazy character of God's love is probably why it saves!” When Jesus appears on the scene, Jesus brings us a whole new understanding of the world God loves. God loves broken people. You see, God sent the Son to show us just how much, and to what lengths, God would go to tell us the world is loved with an audacious, transforming love.  Yes, the gospel of John tells us God so loves the entire God-hating world so much that the entire creation can find its home in God.  God loves this broken world with an immense, immeasurable, redeeming love. This is a love that disturbs us, gnaws at our hearts, creates a hunger for God, unsettles us, grasps us, and draws us into the very arms of God's love where we become forever changed and transformed.  And, once we have been grasped by this love, we find it is a love that will never ever let us go.  We then discover that our true home, the home of all creation, is in God.  Yes, God so loves the world, and it is in turning one's face toward Jesus and looking to the cross where we finally find the love that fills the gnawing hunger in our hearts.  There we discover the beloved one whom God gave to the world out of love for the cosmos.   There we begin to know the breadth and depth of God's redeeming love for God's people.  That is the way of Jesus and that is the message of the cross. And it is God's redeeming love that changes us and causes us to respond to the needs of the world. We, too, then see the world in a different light. When God's redeeming love fills our hungry souls, we are then compelled to work for peace and justice in this broken world.  As we hear Jesus' words today, we so often get stuck on verse 16. However, we really need to hear the words of verse 17 when Jesus says, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”  Here Jesus affirms and repeats that the Son was not sent to condemn this God-hating world. Jesus' message is not about who's in and who's out, as far too many want to claim when quoting these verses. Rather, it is about God's consistent intent to love, save, and bless this whole world…..If God's love is for all, then we who have experienced that love in Christ are called to see persons of other faiths and persons of no faith through the lens of that profound, surprising, unsettling, audacious love. That means embracing not just those who are like us, but also embracing all those we consider other! In the early days of Jesus' ministry, Nicodemus came by night and had a gnawing hunger within himself.  He came to Jesus, seeking to fill a hunger he did not really understand.  Nicodemus was invited into the way of Jesus, invited into the love God has for the whole world, the cosmos, and he did not initially get or understand what Jesus was saying.  And, quite frankly, far too often we don't get what Jesus is saying.  However, it is likely Nicodemus grew in understanding and was transformed because when we get to the end of John's gospel, we find out Nicodemus did not abandon Jesus.  It was Nicodemus along with Joseph of Arimathea, who cared for Jesus' body after the crucifixion.  He was ultimately captured by the love God has for this world because this is a love he could not escape.  I agree with Mother Teresa, there is a deep, gnawing hunger for love and there is a hunger for God in our culture and in the world.  And the good news is that, in the person of Jesus, we discover a God who loves this broken, God-hating world and our very broken selves so deeply that no one, absolutely no one, can escape God's all-encompassing, unconditional love.

I still vividly remember the time fifty plus years ago when I first came to Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos. I was in High School, and I came with my mother to Faith Lutheran Church for a gathering of the Michigan District ALCW (the American Lutheran Church Women).  I clearly remember that day because Evelyn Frost was the speaker. I am sure some of you who are long time members remember her.  Evelyn's remarks on that day made a huge impression on my young, formidable mind.  The gospel passage on which she spoke was the gospel reading we have today.  I remember being fascinated as she talked about salt, the many properties and varieties of salt, and the multiple ways in which salt is used.  As I studied today's gospel reading, that experience of roughly fifty years ago came to mind. Salt and light.  Today, Jesus tells us we are the salt of the earth, and we bring light to the world.  Last week we heard Jesus launch his ministry by beginning his inaugural address, the message we now call the Sermon on the Mount.  Last week we heard him begin with The Beatitudes, that wonderful vision that lifts up the most unlikely people – the poor in spirit, the meek and the merciful, those who mourn and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted.  Last week we heard Jesus call these most unlikely of people “blessed.”  Today, Jesus continues his sermon by addressing the crowd as “you,” and offering them words of both reassurance and challenge.  The “you” he addresses is plural.  It is to be heard by us not as privately pious Christians but as the Body of Christ active in the world God so deeply loves, even if that activity is at times risky business.  As Jesus continues, he uses the metaphors of salt and light.  And, like that second generation of Christians to whom Matthew was writing, we listen with the crowd to hear that we, too, are “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world.”   One of the fascinating things I remember Evelyn Frost so eloquently talking about was the existence of multiple types of salt.  If we were to go out shopping for salt we would find pink, black, gray, flaky, rock, crystals, iodized, and un-iodized just to name a few. Some salts are better used when cooking, while others are best as a finishing touch. Some salts are not edible but are used for chemical purposes, like melting ice on winter roads.  Salt is something that is necessary for human life.  And, when we hear Matthew's gospel today and remember that it was written for early Jewish Christians, it is thought-provoking to note that some early Christian communities placed salt on the tongue of the newly baptized.  Given the wide varieties of salt around the world, its culinary and chemical significance and its many uses, Jesus' comparison of believers to salt is even more meaningful.   As Christians, one might say we are chemically the same through the work of the Spirit.  However, we are called to different uses and work. And, when we think about Jesus calling his followers light, we must remember light is not just the opposite of dark. The word “light” is also the opposite of heavy.  In today's Old Testament reading, Isaiah calls Israel to a fast that is about reducing a certain kind of heaviness – the heaviness others carry. The fast that God has chosen should lessen the burden and heaviness of those who are oppressed.  The fast that God has chosen should lessen the heaviness and struggles of the poor, the widows, the orphans, the resident aliens among us, the most vulnerable, and all those on the margins. Lighting the world as children of God should also involve lightening the weight of war, poverty, destruction, oppression, and division. Today's gospel reading epitomizes Matthew's understanding that the Christian movement built upon and perfected the righteousness prescribed in the Jewish commandments and the call of prophets like Isaiah.  When talking about Jesus' words to us today, Lutheran theologian and professor, Barbara Lundblad, connects his message to the words of the prophets before him when she writes: For Jesus, salt and light came out of a long tradition of biblical teaching: salt and light were images for the law of God. Salt and light must take us back to the fullness of the law and the prophets, and the fullness of Jesus' radical teaching in this Sermon on the Mount. The prophets plead for fullness of life: freedom from oppression, bread for the hungry, homes for those who have none, clothing for the naked. Is this not what it means to be the salt of the earth, to keep this prophetic word alive in the midst of our world? If we lose this vision, if we give in to other values, if we forget God's longing for justice, our salt has lost its taste. If you think Jesus' call is impossible, remember that the One who is our bread is with us and within us, empowering us to be salt and light in this world. Yes, this is the righteousness prescribed in the Jewish commandments and the call of the prophets, and it is the righteousness called forth in the kingdom of heaven, the in-breaking reign of God.  This is the righteousness Jesus proclaims as already here when transformation is taking place through him.  The Christian community receives the call to be salt and light and this gospel message is about bringing transformation not only to our individual selves or the members of a specific church or faith community, but transformation to the entire world.  Now, it is important to look again at Jesus' words to us.  He says, “You are the salt of the earth….you are the light of the world.”  As Lutheran pastor and theologian David Lose says: Jesus isn't saying, “You should be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.” Or, “You have to be,…” let alone “You better be,….” Rather, he is saying, you are. As in already are. Even if you don't know it. Even if you once knew it and forgot. Even if you have a hard time believing it.  Jesus is making to his disciples a promise about their very being, he is not commanding, let alone threatening them about what they should be doing. And that's worth tarrying over, as so many in our congregations and world experience God more like a divine law-maker and rule-enforcer than generous gift-giver…..In today's reading, Jesus is making promises and giving out gifts. You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world, and this is, like Jesus' words we heard last week, sheer blessing.  And, it is about identity, about our very being, which in turn leads to doing.  It is all about living into the God-given identity we already have.  Listen again to Jesus' words to us today as I read them from Eugene Peterson's translation, The Message.  Listen as Jesus speaks to you: Let me tell you why you are here.  You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth.  If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness?  You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.  Here's another way to put it:  You're here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world.  God is not a secret to be kept.  We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill.  If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you?  I'm putting you on a light stand.  Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand – shine!  Keep open house; be generous with your lives.  By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.  As I think back to that time in the early ‘70's when I came here to Faith Lutheran Church and heard Evelyn Frost speak, I realize she truly was salt-seasoning bringing out God-flavors to all who listened.  She was God's light-bearer whose words brought transformation in my life. And as I think about my past eight years with you, while preparing for retirement, you have been God's light-bearers and you have brought transformation to so many lives. I give thanks that you truly are a shining light in this community.  As I prepare to leave, my prayer for you is that you will continue to keep open house; and continue to be generous with your lives.  I pray you will continue to faithfully open up to others and, by doing this, prompt people to open up to God, the One who is so very generous to all and showers us with overwhelming love.  I pray you will continue to shine the light of God's overwhelming, unconditional love for all people!

The Cost of Discipleship is the title of a book by German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  In it, Bonhoeffer spells out what he believes it means to follow Christ, what discipleship really is all about.    Bonhoeffer understood that following Jesus is not always easy.  He wanted to honestly communicate the message that, if you live into a life of discipleship, there will be costs to living such a life.  And, ultimately, toward the end of World War II, Bonhoeffer was killed because of the choices he made and his commitment to faithfully follow Jesus. In our gospel reading for today, we find Jesus bluntly teaching about discipleship and what it means to follow him.  And, I have to say, his words regarding discipleship are daunting and uncomfortable to hear.  Today, we find Jesus speaking to a large crowd of people.  Among the throng, there were some who were contemplating the possibility of becoming disciples.  Jesus' response to them communicates the seriousness of discipleship and his words make it clear that faithful discipleship is not for the faint of heart.  The stakes have been rising throughout this chapter in Luke, and it is becoming ever more clear just what lies ahead as Jesus faces the future. So, Jesus spells out the high cost of discipleship. To better understand the blunt nature of what he is saying, think about this. Just imagine inviting someone to come and be part of our community of faith and saying to them, “Come and check us out this Sunday and we'll tell you how hard it is to join our church.  First, you've got to hate your family.  Then, you must carry a cross like a condemned criminal.  Along with that, we expect you to give up everything you have worked so hard to possess.  Do these things and you can call yourself a member of our community of Faith.”  Now, that sounds like a sure and certain way to grow a church!  Right? Well, I think we need to unpack what Jesus is saying and take a deep dive into exploring the meaning of this passage.  First, Jesus says, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters – yes, even his own life – he cannot be my disciple.”  Now, most of us, when we think of Jesus, usually connect his message to themes of love and not hate.  “Hate” is such a strong word and it seems contradictory to our understanding of the Christian life.  And, in our nation, a culture that often elevates “family values” by placing them higher than almost anything else, the idea of hating family is offensive.   When unpacking this word, pastor and theologian, John Petty, writes: The word "hate" is laden with emotion in our cultural context.  It suggests repulsion at a visceral level.  In this case, in the context of first century middle eastern culture, to "hate" [one's family or] one's own self means that the person disconnects from everything that has heretofore defined that person.  To put it another way, one's past no longer defines who they are.  One's identity is no longer formed by one's former allegiances, nor one's experiences in life, nor even one's genetics.  These are part of the old world which is giving way to the new world of God.  Followers of Jesus are not defined by the past, but by their work in the present and their future hope. Jesus uses hyperbole to get across the seriousness of what it means to follow him.  Jesus understands the transformation that takes place in the life of a disciple.  Once a person decides to follow Jesus, then life, relationships, time, and possessions are all viewed through the lens of Jesus.  Even family relationships pale in comparison to our relationship with God.  Our relationship to God is our first priority and our ultimate concern. Yes, Jesus' words are surprising and daunting.  But he is not yet finished.  He continues saying, “Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”  Well, this demand had to hit some of the people like a ton of bricks and take their breath away.  It is likely some of them had witnessed the public shame and humiliation of a condemned criminal carrying his cross through the city streets to the place of execution, just as Jesus himself would eventually do.  Quite honestly, we hear so much about the cross and cross bearing that I don't think we are able to always grasp what Jesus is saying.  In fact, the language of cross bearing has been corrupted by overuse.  Bearing a cross has nothing to do with things we often reference like living with chronic illness, painful physical conditions, or trying family relationships. It is instead what we do voluntarily, because of our commitment to Jesus Christ. Cross bearing requires deliberate sacrifice and exposure to risk and ridicule in order to follow Jesus. And, this commitment is not just a way of life, it is a commitment to a person. A disciple follows another person and learns a new way of life. [Luke, New Interpreter's Bible, p. 293]   It is interesting to note that the term for “cost” appears only once in the New Testament, and it is in this passage.  When Jesus talks about the cross and the cost of discipleship, he gets down to the meat and potatoes of what following him really is about.  The cost inevitably has to do with what you give up, what you sacrifice, what you deny, and the choices you make.   Life is always full of choices.  Life is about counting and weighing the cost of the many things, events and opportunities that vie for our attention.  Sporting events, family events, work events, the list is endless.  But, to carry your cross is to carry the choices and burdens and realities of a life that has made a certain commitment to living into and bringing forth the Kingdom of God right here and right now. That's certainly what it meant for Jesus.  When commenting on this, theologian, David Lose, writes: Jesus isn't inviting meaningless sacrifice. He isn't inviting door-mat discipleship or a whiney Christianity (“that's just my cross to bear”). Rather, he's inviting us to a full-bodied Christian faith that stands over and against all those things that are often presented to us as life by the culture. Jesus invites us, that is, to the kind of abundant life that is discovered only as you give yourself away. The kingdom of God Jesus proclaims is about life and love. And just as love is one thing that only grows when it's given away, so also is genuine and abundant life…. The choices we make, the relationships we decide to pursue, the way we spend this life we've been given, may cause not just puzzlement but dissatisfaction, even upset, among those we care about. But the question before us, as put so fiercely by Moses in the first reading, is whether we will choose life or death. Well, after Jesus says these things, and being the consummate teacher that he is, he then uses two parables to emphasize his point.  First, he describes building a tower and the process used to build it.  Using a form of cost-benefit analysis, he says, “A wise person estimates the cost.  Is it worth it?  Can I complete it?  In the same manner, a wise ruler calculates the cost of the war before going into battle.  Is it worth it?  Can I complete the war?”  Our vocation and call as disciples is always played out in our daily lives by the choices we make.  The decision-making process often requires an aspect of cost-benefit analysis, and sometimes choosing life – life that truly matters – is very costly.  As my dear friend Bill Uetricht says, “To follow Jesus, you have to count the cost.  It isn't going to be easy.  It's going to take you to some uncomfortable places.  It is going to challenge some basic assumptions you have about life.  It is going to unsettle all your little pet projects.”  Yes, it will unsettle you and unsettle all your pet projects! However, we weigh our choices in light of the gift of love and grace God has given us.  And, for those who hear a call to discipleship, Jesus himself becomes the sorting principle – Jesus, the embodiment of self-giving love, of mercy and compassion, the one who is our “true north.”  We follow the one who loved this world so much he went to the cross.  Following Jesus is not easy, but His word is still the best news this world has ever heard for bad times or good, and that is what you and I are called to remember together. Discipleship is demanding. Discipleship is very rewarding, and it is a joy-filled experience. Discipleship is also an intentional, determined thing – an intentional choice. If you would follow Jesus, come with all that you are and with all you have.  The promise of life, abundant life, life that truly matters, is always in front of us. And, the promise of God's unconditional love, forgiveness, and grace far outweigh whatever the cost discipleship might bring.  May God's love free us to choose life and daily center our lives in Christ, beginning right here and right now.

On this holiday weekend as we celebrate the formation and founding of our country and our independence as a nation, we frequently find ourselves thinking about certain characteristics associated with American identity. Characteristics like individualism, invulnerability, and self-sufficiency are often celebrated. Today, in our present time and culture, we are also seeing the growing disease of extreme individualism and Christian nationalism. These malignant ideologies are not at all representative of Christianity, and they do not at all represent the Christian message or connect in any way to the teachings of Jesus. Frankly, perceptions of American individualism and self-sufficiency infuse almost every aspect of our lives, including religion.  We, as a people, preserve and perpetuate the myth that we are a nation defined by the idea that people should set their own course through life.  This is reflected in so many aspects of culture.  Think of Frank Sinatra singing “My Way.”  Think of movies in which famous actors like John Wayne render a rugged brand of individualism and self-imposed justice.   As Americans, we have fallen in love with the idea of the self-made person, the rags to riches story.  We have created the myth that if you make it to the top of your profession, you deserve a huge salary because you are the one responsible for getting to the top.   We have this sense in which we are to live as invulnerable human beings.  This rugged individual ethos permeates virtually every aspect of the way in which we think about achievement, education, work, and vocation. It infuses our understanding of how we are to live, how we should raise our children, and even the way in which we understand religion and faith.  As a matter of fact, the concept of decision theology – the belief that a person must accept Jesus as one's personal Lord and Savior and the idea that each individual must accept God's gift of salvation – developed in and grew out of the 19th and 20th century American focus on individualism.  When writing about the challenge of individualism in our present culture, theologian, David Lose, suggests, “this individualism we celebrate is as much a myth of the culture as is our invulnerability.  The pilgrims and pioneers who settled this land were incredibly aware that their survival depended on each other.  The colonies they eventually established, after all, we called ‘commonwealths,' places where the good of any individual was inextricably linked to the good of the whole.  And as Benjamin Franklin said at the signing of the Declaration of Independence, ‘We must hang together, or assuredly we will all hang separately.'”  The truth of the matter is, the people who founded this country needed each other and needed community in order to survive.  It is striking to me that, on this holiday weekend as we celebrate our nation and our identity as people, we have a Bible reading that teaches us not about individualism and invulnerability. No, it teaches us about vulnerability and community.  When it comes to a life of faith the reality is that the Bible paints a picture of life that rarely coincides with our culture's most commonly held assumptions.  Today, we hear the antithesis of an individualistic, self-sufficient, invulnerable way of thinking and being as we learn about Jesus sending his disciples on a mission.   Jesus sends seventy disciples out and he does not send them to be self-sufficient.  No, he sends them out completely unprepared!  They are not permitted to have anything that might enable them any level of self-sufficiency.  As a result, they go forth into this mission as vulnerable disciples; their well-being is utterly dependent on the people to whom they have been sent, some of whom will respond with hostility rather than hospitality.  And you can never tell which you're going to get until it's too late. I love the way this story is told in The Message translation of the Bible.  We hear Jesus say the following: “What a huge harvest!  And how few the harvest hands.  So, on your knees; ask the God of the Harvest to send harvest hands.  On your way!  But be careful – this is hazardous work.  You're like lambs in a wolf pack.  Travel light.  Comb and toothbrush and no extra luggage.  Don't loiter and make small talk with everyone you meet along the way.  When you enter a home, greet the family, ‘Peace.'  If your greeting is received, then it's a good place to stay.  But if it's not received, take it back and get out.  Don't impose yourself.  Stay at one home, taking your meals there, for a worker deserves three square meals.  Don't move from house to house, looking for the best cook in town.  When you enter a town and are received, eat what they set before you, heal anyone who is sick, and tell them, ‘God's kingdom is right on your doorstep!'  When you enter a town and are not received, go out in the street and say, ‘The only thing we got from you is the dirt on our feet, and we're giving it back.  Did you have any idea that God's kingdom was right on your doorstep?'” Inescapable vulnerability is implicit in the mission to which Jesus calls and sends his disciples.  He sends them out in pairs, and he instructs them to rely entirely upon the hospitality of others.  He sends them out two by two – this is not something they do alone as individuals. He is blunt about how difficult and dangerous this mission might be.  The seventy will be going into a hostile world, yet Jesus does not arm them for battle; rather, they will go out like lambs – lambs among wolves.  Jesus sends them seemingly very unprepared, very vulnerable, and quite uncertain of what they will encounter.  And, no matter how hard they try, they cannot control the outcome.  The outcome depends totally on God.  Some of the people they visit will not share in the message and peace they offer; sometimes whole towns will reject them.  But the gift Jesus gives them as he sends them out two by two is the gift of his presence – the promise that he goes with them – and the gift of solidarity they find as they work together while trusting his promise.  In their working together, their hope and welfare are inextricably linked to that of those around them and those they meet.  Jesus commands vulnerable dependence from his disciples as he sends them to proclaim the good news that God's kingdom has drawn near.  And, they are told to do this through relational, grateful, gracious presence and conversation.   Today's reading is instructional for us on this holiday weekend.  As we live in a world that seems to become increasingly individualistic, more “I” and “me” centered with progressively harsh edges that divide, we follow in the footsteps of the seventy messengers.  We have been called as a community of people, not individuals, a community of people to share with those around us in the greater community the good news of God's forgiveness, love, grace, healing, and peace.  And, we do not work alone.  Our mission is a shared mission.  We work together as the community of Christ and our hope and welfare is inextricably linked to that of those around us.  Together, we have been appointed to go out into the world and announce that God's kingdom has drawn near. In fact, it is right on people's doorstep!   And we go together, remembering Jesus' promise that he is with us, as we too invite others into this mission of which we are a part.  This Jesus' mission is one of compassion, grace, forgiveness, love, meaning, and purpose.  Participating in this Jesus mission means working and living together in intimate community, becoming vulnerable, and giving up our need to control.  And, quite frankly, that kind of vulnerability makes this work a lot more fun because it is then all about what God is doing and has done, and it is not about us.  All we need to do is tend to the harvest God has already planted!  This Jesus mission has to do with the very life of life itself because it is all about God, the One who gives life, the One who sustains life, the One who exists and is present to us as life-giving community, and the One who will ultimately bring all life to a glorious conclusion.  And, I am so grateful that we get to do this Jesus mission together.  Quite frankly, I find it makes this mission deeply meaningful and makes it a mission that is filled with joy.

On this episode of Worship Matters, we're joined by Dr. David Lose, Senior Pastor of Mount Olivet Lutheran Church in Minneapolis. Lose is the former President of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia and previously held the Marbury E Anderson Chair in Biblical Preaching at Luther Seminary, where he also served as director of the Center for Biblical Preaching. His 2013 book, “Preaching at the Crossroads” (Fortress Press) forms the basis of this conversation, with reflections from his current role. Lose and Dr. Derek Weber, Director of Preaching Ministries, discuss preaching that engages culture and provides a sense of Christian identity to worshipers, inviting them into the story that shapes their world. Join us for this crucial conversation.

Luke 9:28-43; Transfiguration C; 2/27/22              Pastor Ellen Schoepf I love this little story Rev. Dr. Robert Sims shares about a little boy and his wagon.  Sims writes: A little boy was riding his wagon along the sidewalk. Suddenly, one of the wheels fell off the wagon.  The little boy jumped out of the wagon and said, “I'll be damned!”  A minister happened to be walking by, and he said, “Son, you ought not use words like that!  That's a bad word.  When something happens, just say, ‘Praise the Lord,' and everything will be all right.”  So, the little boy grumbled, put the wheel back on the wagon and started on down the sidewalk. About ten yards farther, the wheel fell off again.  The little boy said, “Praise the Lord!”  Suddenly, the wheel jumped up off the ground and put itself right back on the wagon.  The minister saw it all and exclaimed, “I'll be damned.” Sims goes on to say, “We are a lot like that minister.  We believe in God's miraculous, glorious, transformative power; we just don't expect it to happen to us.”  I think Pastor Sims' assessment is quite accurate.  I think most of us are aware in the depth of our being that we need God.  At times, I think we often long for a sign of God's presence to us. Yet, we don't often recognize God's presence to us in the ordinary stuff of life, in our ordinary daily experiences.  We often do not trust God's presence to us as we face ambiguity and an uncertain future.  Quite frankly, it is hard to trust God's presence as the world faces an uncertain future, as we see Ukraine ruthlessly invaded by a corrupt, evil, authoritarian power.  It is hard to trust God's presence as we watch an unnecessary, shameful war of aggression and see innocent people needlessly bombed, facing death, and killed. Frankly, we know that life for anyone of us can change at any minute.  To use Sims' metaphor, the wheel of our wagon can fall of at any time.  Faced with life's uncertainty and our lack of control, I think most of us yearn to really feel a connection with the power and presence of God.  We hunger to feel God's presence to us as we face not only our present but also our tomorrows. In today's gospel reading, the writer of Luke is taking us to a deeper engagement with faith.  Written around 80 CE, Luke is writing to a Greek audience that, like us, yearns and hungers to understand more about God and God's presence in life.  So, as Luke tells the Jesus story, the gospel writer tells us that Jesus knows he is facing the last weeks of his life.  Jesus understands the crisis that looms before him as he makes his way to Jerusalem.  He knows that his future means facing impending crucifixion.  And so, what does he do?  He takes Peter, James, and John with him and climbs a mountain to retreat, to spend time in prayer, to worship.  As Jesus looks to the future that awaits, he intentionally moves to spend time in prayer and worship, to spend intentional time with God. Now, this mountain-high praying expedition comes eight days after Jesus has talked to the disciples and told them about his impending death. Theologian, David Lose, reminds us that “the eighth day, after a seven-day week, came very quickly in Christian tradition to refer to Sunday, the day of resurrection and worship, the first day of a new week and a whole new era.”  Consequently, Luke is very intentional when he tells us that Jesus chooses to climb this mountain to pray and be in communion with God on the eighth day.  In the early Christian church, the eighth day represented something totally new, God was about the business of doing a new thing. Anyway, in the face of death, Jesus is resolute in fulfilling his mission as he takes three of his disciples and climbs the mountain to commune with God.  And, after recently hearing all that talk about death, I am sure the disciples are really wondering just what Jesus is now up to as he drags them along on this mountain climbing mission. Once at the top, the disciples find themselves feeling more than a bit tired.  In fact, as Jesus' starts praying, Luke tells us Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep. Then, through the haze of heavy eyes, they see something astounding. Suddenly, Jesus stands in dazzling, radiant light and his ancestor friends, Moses and Elijah, join him appearing “in glory.”  It is a surreal, dazzling flashpoint that embodies the law (Moses), the prophets (Elijah), and grace (Jesus, himself), all in a single moment. Jesus' disciples who, up to this point, have been merely sleepy bystanders now witness what happens.  Jesus is discussing with Moses and Elijah his crucifixion, his departure, his exodus from this world. As he speaks, the conversation bears witness to the redemptive mission that lies before him, the cross.  Well, the ever-dim-witted disciples are awestruck, and they then hear a voice from heaven directed to them saying, “Listen to him.”  The disciples are called to LISTEN to Jesus, and then be faithful to this unique revelation of Jesus the Christ.  Suddenly, the disciples who had viewed Jesus as just a man, a great leader who would free them from Roman rule, saw Jesus differently.  In that moment of worship, they were able to see beneath Jesus' humanity and begin to discover the very presence, the holiness, and the glory of God.   Following this retreat to worship – strengthened and nourished by prayer, a time of hearing God's spoken Word and being immersed in words of the cross – they head down the mountain.  You see, they cannot stay in that place.  No one, not even Jesus can stay in that mountain-top experience.  No, they inevitably must return to the everyday world where human need is immediately present.  As they come down from the mountain, they are approached by an anguished father who wants healing for his only son.  Jesus moves from a time of worship to face a world of need that again rises before him, and he heals the boy.   The word “transfiguration” means change and emphasizes a dramatic change in appearance, one that glorifies or exalts somebody.  As we become open to Christ's presence, we become changed by the grace and love of Christ. I think this story has intentional, significant meaning for us as we think about worship, about what worship means for us, and the way worship changes and transforms us. Worship is that place where we hear God's voice.  Worship is that place where we meet each other in prayer and song.  Worship is that place where we focus on the nature of grace as we experience the cross.  Worship is that place where we experience the holiness of God as we feast on God's very life.  Worship is an experience that helps us to make sense of our lives as we connect with God while facing our own ambiguous and uncertain futures.  And then, we leave worship nourished and renewed for lives of meaning.  We leave worship equipped to face each day, even the uncertain future, with purpose as we live our lives in service to a needy, broken, deeply hurting world. God's transforming work in our lives is explicitly not supposed to be contained in worship, kept in a building, and hidden away. God's transforming work is about our very selves becoming changed, and then sent out into the world. When we become transformed, we then bear the transforming nature of God's grace and love to the broken world around us. That transformational nature we bear is a love and grace that should shine through us in the way we live, and in the places where we live out our lives. Today we come to the end of the season of Epiphany. This Wednesday we begin our journey with Jesus toward Jerusalem and follow him to the cross.  As we begin this Lenten journey, are we ready and willing to stand at the foot of the cross and be changed by the transforming power, grace, and love of Christ in the world?   As we leave worship, we leave empowered by the experience of God's very life and presence to us.  We leave this place equipped so that we can again enter the world of human need and make a difference in the lives of those around us. The metaphoric wheel of the wagon will again fall off at various times throughout our lives but, every time we gather to worship, we again become changed by the love of God in Jesus Christ.  Formed and transformed through worship, we become one with Christ and then live out Christ's mission as we work to make God's vision for this world a reality.  And, for that gift to us we say, “Praise the Lord.”

Lucas Mix is an Episcopal priest, author, and martial artist. He is  also a researcher at the intersection of biology, philosophy, and theology, focusing on theories of life. In the second half of 2021, he is serving as the Baruch S. Blumberg NASA/Library of Congress Chair in Astrobiology, Exploration, and Scientific Innovation researching the relationship between science and science fiction.If you're interested in reading more about resurrection, look into The Resurrection of the Son of God (2012) and Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Ministry of the Church (2008), both by N.T. Wright.If you are interested in learning more about Lucas' work, visit his blog at https://dacalu.wordpress.com/. In addition, check out Lucas' books, such as Life Concepts From Aristotle to Darwin: On Vegetable Souls (2018) and Thinking Fair: Rules for Reason in Science and Religion (2016).If you're interested in learning more about resurrection, check out our ChurchNext courses Don't Fear Death! with Tom Krell; What's Heaven Like? with John Price; Making Sense of the Cross with David Lose, Parts One, Two, and Three; and Exploring Hell with Seth Carey.

It is good to be back with you. I am deeply grateful for the time I spent away.  It was wonderful to let go of all the clutter in life and the clutter in my head.  It was refreshing to let go of work and deadlines, and just play with my grandson.  It was life-giving to spend priceless time with him, my son and daughter-in-law, and simply enjoy being while taking in the beauty of creation.  Time like that makes my imagination and creativity really bubble and thrive. This morning, I would like to ask you to use your imaginations as we try a little exercise.  To begin, I ask you to sit back, close your eyes and let go of the clutter of thoughts that are likely present in each of your heads.  With your eyes still closed, let you're your imagination start working and begin to picture Jesus.  Take a few seconds to think about the image of Jesus you are seeing in your mind's eye.  Note what he looks like and what you see him doing.  Now, open your eyes and I am going to ask you a few questions. In your imagined picture of Jesus….. Does he have a full beard or is he beardless? Is he calm, serene, pleasant, and peaceful? Is he wearing a white garment? Is he surrounded by children, maybe holding one on his lap? Is he smiling? Are his arms stretched out in welcome? Is he performing some sort of miracle or offering food to the hungry?   Now, be very honest with yourself.  Did you respond with a “yes” to many of these questions?  The truth of the matter is that, for most of us, our image of Jesus was shaped by stories we learned in childhood and the pictures we have seen, pictures that were often used in children's Bibles.  And, quite frankly, most of those pictures depict a calm, happy, inviting, white, northern European Jesus.  However, if we take an honest look at the gospels, we often see a very different picture of Jesus.  First, he was not white and northern European.  And, in all the Gospels, we find stories where Jesus displays very human, even unlikable, characteristics.  There are times when he really seems annoyed with the stupidity of the disciples, and other times when he seems truly overwhelmed by the burden he is bearing.  There are stories where Jesus is reclusive, grumpy, and even sarcastic.  And, today, we get one of those stories. In the chapters preceding today's story, Jesus has been performing miracles.  He has fed the 5,000, and he has walked on water.  He has been healing the sick and demon-possessed, and there is no doubt he is seeking some much-needed rest.  So today, as he seeks respite, we find him heading into the region of Tyre and Sidon, a land that is Gentile, pagan territory.  While there, he is noticed and approached by a Syrophoenician, Greek woman whose daughter has an unclean spirit.  She begs him to cure her daughter.  And, Jesus replies, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs.” Whoa!!  Jesus rebuffs this woman and dismisses her with a blatant, ethnic slur.  You see, during Biblical times, the word “dog” was commonly used as a derogatory insult.  And, the Gentiles were so despised and considered so unclean, the Jewish people referred to them as “dogs.”   Anyway, Jesus' response to this foreign woman does not stop there.  He also makes it clear that his own people, the Jews, should be fed first.  He is saying, it isn't right to take food that is meant for the Jews and give it to dogs, the Gentiles.  I have to say, this is probably not the image of Jesus we usually conjure up in our minds.  As theologian, David Lose, suggests: We want to think of Jesus as full-bodied, perfect, and immutable from birth, kind of like Athena springing full-grown from the head of Zeus.  But if we are to take Mark's narrative seriously, never mind the incarnational and creedal affirmation that Jesus is fully human as well as fully divine, then perhaps we should not be surprised to see a development in Jesus' own recognition of God's vision for the world.  After all, the profoundly expansive notion of a kingdom that included everyone – no exceptions! – was completely and totally novel.  And, truthfully, it still is!   Well, what is so amazing about this story is that this woman does not back down.  She does not become defensive and, instead of being offended or discouraged, she presses on.  She has a sick daughter, and she wants healing for her daughter.  So, this culturally unconventional woman who is breaking all kinds of rules by coming to Jesus in the first place, uses Jesus' own words against him and bests him in the argument saying, “Fine, you can call me a dog, but even dogs get crumbs that fall from the table.”  The truth of the matter is, this Gentile woman teaches Jesus, a Jewish man, the true meaning of what he has just reminded his own followers in the verses prior to this.  If you remember last week's reading, Jesus had reprimanded the Pharisees saying their social conventions, the purity codes, rules that had become religious ritual, were not what is important.  What's important is the stuff that comes out of the human heart.  It is the stuff that comes from the heart that can either pollute and destroy relationships or compassionately build community.  Well, today, this Gentile woman, a woman the Jewish people considered unclean, insists that social conventions should not stand in the way of compassion and helping those in need.  And, as this courageous, prophetic, Syrophoenician woman confronts Jesus, he has a “conversion” experience.  This woman of great faith changes Jesus and opens him up for ministry to the Gentiles. Impressed by the woman's courage and faith, Jesus responds saying, “You're right!  On your way. Your daughter is no longer disturbed.  The demonic affliction is gone.” (The Message) This Gentile woman crosses the Jewish/Gentile boundary, a barrier established by human beings, a barrier created to separate and discriminate.  The barrier that had been created to divide people into categories of “us” and “them” has been called into question.  This foreign woman draws for Jesus a bigger picture of who God is, and the good news that is embodied in Jesus now becomes good news that has the world as its focus.  Jesus actually receives strength from this woman whose faith changes him as he is forced to live into a broader understanding of his mission and ministry.  The broadening of the heart and mind to include the “others” in life is one of the most difficult psychological maneuvers there is.  I find this to be a challenge we face each and every day.  Far too often, we want to build walls to keep the “others” out.  We work to exclude the “others” in our lives, whether it is within our family structures, our communities, or even within our nation.  And, we tend to project what we don't like in ourselves on to the “other.”  We tend to see the “other” as less than us, not as fully human, sometimes not even as loved by God.  In today's reading, it is a woman who is considered and labeled “other” who helps Jesus grasp that in God the barriers are broken down.  In God things are turned inside out and upside down.  In God, no human beings are labeled as “dogs,” only beloved children.  All are considered God's children. Scripture really does paint a very different picture of Jesus than the one we so often conjure up in our minds.  Today, we see Jesus in his full humanity, vulnerable, and open to being changed.  And, it is in his full humanity that we discover what divinity is all about.  It is in Jesus' full humanity that we discover the God whose loves and welcomes all!

Recently, a Pew research poll revealed that for the first time ever, most Americans do not consider themselves to be affiliated with a specific religious tradition. What does this mean. What's changed? Rev. Dr. David Lose has some ideas, and he has some wise words for those thinking about the future of American Christianity.   Check us out at logosish.com Support local book stores and this podcast

I love the questions our youth often feel free to ask.  In fact, I wish more adults would feel as free to ask similar questions.  Anyway, on multiple occasions, I have received questions from our young people regarding faith, the life of Jesus, questions about the existence of God, and questions that show they have doubt about many aspects of faith.  I truly encourage these questions because that is how we learn, that is how we grow, and that is how we are taken to new places.  Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, once said, “Live the questions!”  I truly believe that is the best way we learn.  I also believe that as Christians, when we ask questions, we need to be honest about our doubt.  Far too often the church has discouraged doubt.  However, doubt is really a healthy aspect of faith.  In fact, theologian, Paul Tillich, said doubt is a very necessary element of faith.  And, theologian, Frederick Buechner, writes these words about doubt, “Whether your faith is that there is a God or that there is not a God, if you don’t have any doubts you are either kidding yourself or asleep.  Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith.  They keep it awake and moving.” (Wishful Thinking)    In other words, doubt is not only an element of faith, doubt becomes the process through which faith grows and faith is deepened.  Vibrant, living faith is nurtured and born in the mix of a rich environment where we have the freedom to ask questions, voice our doubts, articulate our wonderings about this person we call Jesus, and let go of old even elementary images of God.  For all of us, there is a real need for our old understandings of Jesus and our old understanding of faith to die.  Our old understandings need to be eaten away by doubts so that a new and deeper faith may be born.  In today’s gospel reading, questions and doubt come to the forefront in the story of Thomas.  However, the truth is that all the disciples were questioning and experiencing doubt.  It is the day of the resurrection and here we find the disciples sitting in a room behind locked doors because of fear, doubt, and quite likely more than a little shame.  They have blown it completely, they are hiding in fear, and they are doubting everything their master had said.  And, what is so fascinating is that, in the gospel of John, when Jesus appears to his disciples after the resurrection, nobody, not one person, initially recognizes him.  Notice in the beginning of today’s reading, the disciples do not recognize him until Jesus shows them his hands and side.  They doubted him!  They doubted it was Jesus!  It is only after Jesus shows them his hands and side that the disciples rejoice because they have seen the Lord.  While the other disciples also doubt, for some strange reason, only Thomas gets labeled “doubter.”  Far too often we judge Thomas because of his doubt.  We need to cut him some slack and give him a break.  In Thomas we find the yearning of one who desperately wants to see with his eyes and touch with his hands that of which he has been told.  He has real questions, real concerns, and a desire for a real encounter with the risen Lord.  I think the story of Thomas captures our hearts and minds because we, too, were absent to the Resurrection experience two thousand years ago.  When faced with the mystery of the Resurrection, the story of Thomas names that part in each of us that wants to scream out, “Show me!” Thomas has just had a very harsh encounter with reality.  Reality had hit hard in the form of a cross when his dear friend had been crucified.  And, when he fled that horrible scene, not only had Jesus died, Thomas’ hopes and dreams had also died.  Jesus’ crucifixion had destroyed his hopes for the future and very poignantly reminded him that there is an end.  And, it is the same for us.  When the harsh realities of life hit us – whether it be the death of a family member, the loss of a job, an unexpected illness, a broken relationship, aspects of this pandemic, or whatever – reality deeply cuts into our hopes, our dreams, the very fabric of our relationships, and we are reminded that there is an end.  There is an end over which we have no control as we feel we have been taken captive by an extremely cruel conqueror.  The reality that sliced into Thomas’s hopes and dreams left him emotionally bleeding and broken.  As he again joins the community of disciples, within the context of those who proclaim Jesus is alive, Thomas lays bare his doubt.  He is very honest about his doubt as he says, “Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe.”  In the depth of his despair Thomas articulates his doubt, and it is in that place where he is now confronted with the risen Christ.  It is in that place of despair that Thomas is greeted by the risen Lord whose presence exudes forgiveness and grace as he hears the words, “Peace be with you.”  In that moment, Thomas knows he is in the presence of God and he believes.  Theologian, David Lose, describes the experience of Thomas in this way: When Thomas is greeted by the forgiveness and grace embodied in the words, “Peace be with you,” he instantly believes and makes the great confession of John’s gospel: “My Lord and my God!”  In a heartbeat Thomas knows that he is in the presence of God, has been saved and redeemed by that God, and that he will never be the same again.    Thomas lays bare his doubt which takes him to this encounter with the grace of God, embodied and enfleshed in the risen Lord Jesus.  Doubt drives him to question and it takes him to this place where he is encountered by the risen Lord and his entire reality is changed.  Wow!!  Did you get that?  Reality itself has changed.  The despairing Thomas does not escape from the real world and there is not a break from the tangible reality of the world.  No.  But, there is something very different, something very, very new.  God’s grace and God’s kingdom have invaded the real world, transformed it and nothing will ever be the same again.  I think Thomas experiences Easter in the way many of us begin to experience it.  Thomas finally gets Easter when he brings forth his questions. He wants to see and touch. He wants tangible proof and needs his own encounter before he can trust the story.  It is doubt that compels Thomas to ask the questions and it is doubt that takes him to the place where he is looking for what is really real and what truly matters.  You see, without doubt, our faith is shallow and rootless.  We fail to go down deep.  Doubt is a sign of a healthy and deep-rooted faith, though most of us are taught to believe the opposite. And, when doubt takes us to the deeper places in faith our reality changes.  We are transformed and our perspective on all of life changes as we live into a new reality. This is what Easter is all about and what Easter means for each one of us.  This new reality is a way of life, expressed as we come together to worship and be fed by the very life of the Risen Christ.  We participate in the work of our risen Lord and live into this new reality as we see the hungry in this world and work for change, whether it is by distributing bags of food to Okemos families so they can have an Easter dinner, by filling our micro pantries, or working with the refugees who are living in the Parish House as we help to provide for them a life of hope.  We live this new reality when we intentionally work to end extreme poverty, racism, and work to bring healing and wholeness to the environment and the profound brokenness in this world God so deeply loves. As the community of faith gathers and we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, voice our doubts and ask our questions, Jesus does appear.  The community of faith is not the place where we have and know all the answers.  It is a place where a searching faith can develop and become authentic and alive.  Such an environment creates the space for an authentic encounter with God as the risen Christ appears.  The story of Thomas, his questions and his doubt, is one of the most compelling, believable, realistic stories in the Bible because it is our story.  Doubt and the questions that arise are the very heartbeat of our faith!   And, the risen Christ is always breaking into our doubt and our questions and working to make us new.  Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

It is the first and the shortest of the four Gospels, as most experts believe, and if you like getting right to the point, no other writer does it quite as well as St. Mark.The Gospel of Mark is the account of Jesus' life and ministry that most influenced the other three gospels. In this episode we'll learn:Who was Mark?To whom was Mark writing?What are the main themes in Mark?How should Mark be read?This course offers an excellent overview of Mark's Gospel.

For those of you familiar with William Shakespeare’s work, you will remember that one line from his play The Tempest is “Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.”  Over time, that line has morphed into the phrase, “Politics makes strange bedfellows.”  Now, quite honestly, politics making strange bedfellows is by no means a recent development.  This has probably happened throughout the history of humanity.  And, we find that is exactly what is happening in today’s gospel reading as the Pharisees and Herodians team up to trick and trap Jesus. For the past few weeks, we have been journeying with Jesus through the last week of his life, a week that has been intense to say the least.  Just a few days before today’s confrontation, Jesus had entered Jerusalem where he was greeted by throngs of people shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”  Then there was that incident where he overthrew the tables of the Temple moneychangers.  Jesus has spent the week challenging both the political and religious powers that be.  He has been doggedly confronted by the religious leaders who are questioning the authority behind his actions.  And, he has called into question the religious leaders’ authority by telling illuminating, confrontational parables.  So, today, we discover the Herodians and the Pharisees team up to trap the itinerant, rabblerousing, peasant rabbi known as Jesus.  To better understand what is happening in this story, we need a little bit of background information.  Jews in first century Palestine paid a lot of taxes. There was a temple tax; there were also land taxes, customs taxes, and trade taxes to name just a few more. The tax mentioned in today’s reading was yet an additional tax, one particularly despised by the Jews - it was called the Imperial Tax.  This tax was required as a tribute to Rome to support the Roman Empire's occupation of Israel. Think of that for a moment - first century Jews were required to pay their oppressors a yearly tax to support their own oppression!  It is also helpful to better understand these two groups of people – the Herodians and the Pharisees.  The Herodians, on the one hand, saw themselves as having power derived from Rome.  As their name suggests, they were a family political party related to and allied with Herod Antipas, the local puppet ruler supported by the Romans. They were local sympathizers with the Roman rulers and, not surprisingly, the Herodians supported paying tax to Caesar because they benefited from it.  The Pharisees, on the other hand, were also a political party, as well as religious scholars.  They were committed to every detail of Jewish law.  They aligned themselves more closely with the occupied and oppressed and, for religious reasons, they opposed paying tax to Caesar.  Their opposition to paying the Imperial Tax was based less on the fact of occupation and more on the special coin that had to be used to pay this particular tax. You see, this coin – a denarius, worth a day’s wage – carried the inscription or likeness of Tiberius Caesar.  And, the Romans considered Caesar the divine son of Augustus.  This inscription or likeness was overtly offensive to the religious leaders, and within Jesus’ community the inscription spoke both of oppression and of blasphemy.  Thus, in Jesus' time, any conversation about the Imperial Tax was very divisive and immediately revealed where one stood in relation to Rome and faith. Anyway, these two oppositional groups of people, the Herodians and the Pharisees, invoke a temporary truce as they try to trick Jesus, believing they finally have him cornered.  They present Jesus with a question that poses a political conundrum, and they await a political response.  They ask Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?”  By asking this question, they know that if Jesus declares it lawful, he might acquit himself with the Roman authorities, but the crowd of followers would turn against him because it would scandalize the religious establishment.  And, if he rules against it, he positions himself against Rome, a position nobody in their right mind would willingly seek.  Brilliantly, Jesus responds by widening the question so that it has little to do with politics.  He says, “Show me the coin used for the tax.”  They quickly bring him a denarius.  Then, Jesus asks, “Whose head is this on the coin and whose title?” Thinking they finally have Jesus ensnared, they respond by saying, “The Emperor’s.”   Now, everyone in attendance knew the commandments and they knew that Jesus had just trapped the trappers in their own blasphemy according to Jewish law.  To understand what Jesus has just done, listen to the way David Lose describes what just happened. He writes:  There’s more going on here than meets the eye, [because] along with that image is an engraved confession of Caesar’s divinity, which means that any Jew [even] holding the coin is breaking the first two of the commandments.  All of which leads to Jesus’ closing line, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s.”  And with this one sentence, Jesus does not simply evade their trap or confound their plans, he also issues a challenge to his hearers that reverberates through the ages into our sanctuaries. Now, to even more clearly understand this, if we look at verse 20, a better translation of Jesus’ question would be, “Whose likeness is this, and what title?”  And, when the good Jewish religious leaders hear these words, their minds will automatically think back to their Jewish scriptures and the book of Genesis.  They will automatically reference God’s pronouncement and promise in Genesis, chapter one, where we read: Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness;” Jesus’ words are powerful words for the Herodians, the Pharisees and for us.  His response calls the Pharisees, the Herodians, and us to think about the way in which we are called to live.  The key question here is not whose image is on the coin but rather whose image is on us! Whose image is on our hearts? Jesus is calling us to remember our identity. You see, what Jesus is really reminding us of is that we are made in the image and likeness of God. We are not gods, but we bear God’s likeness and we are to act as God acts regarding the way we live in relationship to all others and the way we live as good stewards of all we have been given.  We are to bear the same characteristics God shows to us as we live in relationship to God, to all other people and to creation itself.  Jesus is saying that we are called to serve as God’s agents and God’s co-workers, not as an act of power but rather as an act of stewardship, as we work to extend the abundant life God wishes for all people and even all of creation. As we go through our daily lives, making decisions and interacting with all kinds of people, it is often easy to forget in whose likeness we and they are made.  God is always calling us back, to turn again to him and remember that our primary identity is to live as God’s children, live as God’s good stewards of all that we have been given, and act like the God we see in Jesus!  And, while Caesar or Empire will get many of our coins, each of our lives is marked with God’s likeness, an icon of the One who is its source and destination, as we embody the kingdom of God.  While our currency bears the image of Empire, baptism is the watermark of our true currency, the inspiration for all that we do, the choices we make, and for the many ways in which we live as God’s stewards of all that we have been given.  The point of this Jesus story is that we are called to live remembering that each one of us has been made in the likeness of God. God loves you. God loves you so much that God keeps your picture in the divine wallet and on the heavenly refrigerator. Jesus did not care about the tax – his real concern is that you live into the image and likeness of the God who lovingly created you.  And, that means living in such a way that you love God with all your heart and that you truly love your neighbor, and that means all others, as you love yourself and as God loves you!  This is the best word we can receive, and it is the best word you can share with others.

I am sure many of you remember the Elvis Presley song, I Feel the Temperature Rising. That was a song about a guy’s reaction to a girl with whom he had a relationship. Well, the phrase I feel the temperature rising has been going through my head this past week and the reason has nothing to do with a love relationship! It has everything to do with the anxiety level I am sensing and feeling in our culture. As I have been talking with people, I have observed a growing sense of anxiety and fear as we near the beginning of an uncertain school year during this COVID-19 pandemic. I have also been noticing and feeling a real sense of anxiety as we move through the chaos of this election season. I do not think anyone can deny we are living during a time of augmented chaos and uncertainty.  And, it is only natural that we are experiencing amplified anxiety and fear!  Anxiety and fear are vital responses to physical and emotional danger.  And, if we could not experience a sense of fear, we could not protect ourselves from legitimate threats.  However, sometimes, fear can be paralyzing, and it can keep us from living into the fullness of life, living a centered life, living into life that truly matters.   So, being honest about our fear and exposing ourselves to our personal demons by facing our fears is the best way to move through them and beyond them.   In today’s readings from scripture, we discover our ancestors in faith also faced fear and anxiety.  In our reading from 1 Kings, Elijah was living in fear.  He had faithfully preached truth to power when he spoke to the evil King Ahab and Queen Jezebel.  Then, the Queen had sent a messenger to Elijah telling him that she intended to kill him that very day. Shackled by fear, Elijah goes and hides on Mount Horeb, the mountain also known as Mount Sinai.  On that mountain, he waits for God to reveal God’s self to him. The temperature of Elijah’s anxiety continues to rise as he experiences a great wind, an earthquake, and fire.  But, in these displays of natural forces, God did not seem present. Rather, Elijah’s encounter with “sheer silence” calls him back to his prophetic tasks.  By centering himself in silence toward God, he again discovered God’s presence to him.  He experienced what St. Paul references in today’s reading from Romans when he writes, “The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart.”    In today’s gospel, we hear a story that not only addresses the fear that can literally overpower us, but also the even greater power of God’s loving presence to us, a presence that will never let us go. As we meet up with Jesus, he has finally been able to send the crowds away.  He has convinced his disciples to get in a boat and cross the lake ahead of him. Finally, he has found time to retreat and spend some time in prayer.  As we look at today’s gospel reading, Jesus is not a superhero who has retreated to his bat cave. He is not a ghost out to haunt the already terrified. He is a man. Fully God, fully human. He is the Son of God, though those around him don't yet recognize him. His ministry is being battered by the rejection of his hometown folks and the beheading by Herod of his cousin John the Baptist. Jesus knows his time is coming. Crowds of needy people have been constantly pressing in on him.  And, he needs some time alone. Jesus is praying, perhaps lifting up each of his fears and struggles to God and exchanging them for faith, allowing the comfort and healing and power of God to fill his inner life, his heart, mind, emotions, and will. After all, this is what the Jewish scriptures tell us to do, to surrender all our lesser fears to our fear of the Lord, which means our reverence for God, for who God is and what God can do.  Then, as Jesus looks up and squints at the horizon, he sees the disciples' little boat bobbing side to side, back and forth, and up and down on the chaotic water.  Well, the disciples have spent nearly the whole night struggling to get across that blasted lake before Jesus shows up near daybreak.  The Sea of Galilee is not a massive body of water, never more than seven miles across when traveling east-west.  Yet, they’ve not been able to traverse it, for the storm has “battered” or “thrashed” their boat.  And, as for the churning sea?  In their worldview, it represents chaos and danger.  The temperature of their anxiety is rising!  Then, they think they see a ghost!  Fear erupts because they anticipate how the story will probably end.  All night they have been threatened by the prospect that this chaos might devour them. They saw themselves as disciples left to die at the mercy of more powerful forces. Talk about a situation that causes the temperature of one’s fear and anxiety to rise! Finally, the disciples realize this seeming “ghost” is Jesus, striding over and above the sea, transcending the watery chaos.  And, astoundingly, Peter wants to step out there on that chaotic water.  Peter steps out of the boat and enters the tumult.  And, Peter flounders.  He flounders because he grows afraid.  Quite frankly, that fear is justified.  The storm is still powerfully raging and it is so intense it could sink the boat, let alone drown a single person.  He has perfectly good reason to be afraid. And, so do we.  There are multiple reasons each one of us might face fear.  Maybe you fear what will happen as school begins and this virus is likely to again spike.  Maybe you fear someone in your family will get this virus.  Maybe you fear loneliness after loss.  Or, fear aging and all the issues that come with growing old.  Or, maybe you fear for your kids and what they are experiencing or will experience.  Or, you fear facing a new chapter in life, or making a major life-changing decision.  Or, you fear for the future of our congregation, or the direction of our country, or global security….  You name it!  There are multiple situations and reasons in our individual, congregational and communal lives that make us afraid.  And that fear can be paralyzing, debilitating, and make it difficult for us to move forward or even have any sense of confidence.  In fact, as theologian David Lose says, “Fear is one of the primary things that robs the children of God of the abundant life God intends for us.”  Well, in response to Peter’s fear, Jesus doesn’t simply urge Peter to buck up, be a man, be courageous, let go of his fear and focus on him.  Instead, when Peter begins to sink, Jesus literally catches him!  He grabs hold of Peter!  Jesus grabs him and saves him from drowning.  He grabs him and restores him to his vocation as a disciple.  And, guess what?  He does the same with us.  Jesus will not, he absolutely will never, let us go.  Jesus is never going to give up on us, no matter what we do!  The God we know in Christ is truly THE LOVE THAT WILL NEVER LET US GO!  In the depth of our fear, Jesus grabs us, holds on to us when we falter and restores us to where we can again be of service to him.  Today’s gospel, life-giving word to us is a message that is not only about our fear.  It is a message that is the heart of the gospel message.  It is the gospel good news of grace which proclaims that God will never give up on us, that God is with us and for us, that God – in the end – will do what we cannot do for ourselves and save us.  This is a message that enables us to cope with life and with our fear because it is a message that enables us to transcend that fear.  We may not be able to defeat it, but we can face it, stand in the swirling disorder and chaos, and do what needs to be done even when we are afraid.  And, quite frankly, this is the nature of what it means to live out an active life of faith, to be willing to throw oneself into a disorderly world and expect to encounter Jesus there.  I love what William Willimon says about this passage.  He writes: If Peter had not ventured forth, had not obeyed the call to walk on the water, then Peter would never have had this great opportunity for recognition of Jesus and rescue by Jesus.  I wonder if too many of us are merely splashing about in the safe shallows and therefore have too few opportunities to test and deepen our faith.  The story today implies if you want to be close to Jesus, you have to venture forth out on the sea and [discover] his promises through trusting his promises, through risk and venture. Yes, we do feel the temperature of our anxiety and fear rising.  However, as we face our fear, getting out of the boat with Jesus and going to the places where Jesus goes as we truly love and care for all others is the riskiest, most exciting, and most fulfilling way to live life to the fullest, life that truly matters, life that is abundant.  And, this God we see in Jesus, will always be holding on to us and never let us go!

I am a big fan of Dr. Anthony Fauci.  I have been for years.  If you look at the work he has done and accomplished in his lifetime, you will find it impressive and stellar.  And, he is deeply respected in the scientific community. However, it is deeply concerning that so many leaders and people in our country simply are not listening to him as he has been speaking and continues to speak to us about COVID-19.  In many ways, he is a prophet in our time as he tells us what we should be doing and warns us about what is to come if we do not do the things necessary to mitigate this virus. His message is rooted in science and it is very clear.  In fact, just this past week he said too many people, especially young adults, are unconcerned by coronavirus and, consequently, they are carelessly shedding this virus and ultimately killing other people. Far too many people just do not seem to listen. I find it deeply troubling because it is as though they simply do not understand. In today’s gospel reading Jesus is also talking about people who do not understand.  He shares this little parable about children playing in the marketplace, and their songs are never quite understood.  The children play a glad, happy song for their friends, but no one dances.  Then, they play a sad, mournful dirge, but no one mourns or weeps.  Jesus goes on to say, the children were no better understood than John the Baptist or he, himself.  Jesus is addressing the failure of society to understand the reasons for dancing and the reasons for weeping. He is addressing the failure of society to understand and respond to the messages he and John the Baptist had proclaimed.  Their messages had been extremely clear.  However, society – the entire generation – was unfaithful and fickle.  The people had been given every opportunity to hear, but they refused.  They had heard from both John and Jesus, but they could not decide what they wanted. Now, John and Jesus could not have been more opposite in style.  John appeared on the scene as this eccentric, sober, teetotaler who ate bugs and honey for lunch, wore scratchy clothing made from animal hair, and often fasted.  He came addressing his listeners as a “brood of vipers,” proclaiming a message that was all about austere repentance.  But, the people complained.  Some even labeled him as demon possessed.  Jesus, on the other hand, invaded the scene as this welcoming character who feasted, ate, drank, and partied with all sorts of people.  He came proclaiming the good news of a God of love, a God of disturbing, startling, astonishing, even unsettling inclusiveness.  He came healing the sick and performing all sorts of miracles.  But, the people dismissed him.  Some even called him a glutton and a drunkard.  Listening to other voices in their culture, the whole generation, a whole people, did not understand the song of these two very different men.  Listening to other voices around them, they did not know when to dance and when to mourn.  In fact, they found reason to take offense at both John and Jesus and thus evade the call of both.   Yes, John and Jesus were misunderstood, and their call to living a life that truly mattered was evaded.  I really wonder about the ways we fail to understand Jesus, the ways we fail to understand the reasons for dancing and the reasons for mourning.  How deeply are we lulled by the songs of our culture: songs of toxic, malignant individualism; songs of success; songs of money, power and control; songs of pull yourself up by your bootstraps; and songs proclaiming a belief that strength, might and determination will solve all problems?  How often are we lulled by power hungry voices in our culture telling us to believe that we need not care for the most vulnerable in our midst because it costs money, so we cast the least of these aside even though that might mean they go without health care in the midst of a pandemic, go homeless, or go hungry while trying to find a way.  How often are we lulled by narcissistic, self-focused voices in our culture, telling us it is ok to exclude and not welcome others who are different from us, cutting others out of the picture, whether it be globally, nationally, within our communities, even within our very own families?  How often do we miss the moments in life that really matter?  And, how often do we dance when we ought to mourn for a world whose burden is so very, very heavy?  How often do we dance when we should weep for so many people who are suffering and need rest? Well, Jesus turns away from the gathered crowd and offers a prayer that is rather jarring to our success oriented, power and control seeking, self-focused, wisdom and intellect pursuing psyche.  And, we discover that in God’s realm, all those things that attract our attention, those things that drive our behavior and become the attributes we consider important, are barely noticed.  In fact, they are dismissed.  What is even more interesting is that Jesus’ words indicate the blessings of God are hidden from the wise, hidden from the powerful, hidden from the intelligent and sophisticated.  Instead, the infants of this world, those who are innocent and naïve, those who are the most vulnerable, are the ones who best understand the ways of God.  You see, only the vulnerable can really identify their deep need.  And, when we are vulnerable enough to identify the need within our very selves, the need for God’s presence in life, it also means something must die and we will be changed.  Oh, how we tend to fear that because it means facing our own messed-up-ness, letting go of our issues, and facing loss.  Yet, the truth of the matter is that, in doing so, we will be made new!  As he addresses this aspect of today’s gospel reading, theologian David Lose writes: Here’s the difficult truth about life in Christ. You cannot enter into it and expect to be unchanged. Which means a precondition of receiving Jesus – perhaps the only one! – is to recognize your need for Jesus. Forgiveness, when you think about it, is meaningful only to those who have sinned, grace avails only those who are broken, and the promise of life abundant and eternal is only attractive to those who know they are dying……Jesus knows that this kind of message – a message that is good news only to those who can identify their own deep need – will be of little appeal to the self-made man or woman of the first or twenty-first centuries. But it is good news – unbelievably good news – to those who know their own brokenness, can admit their own need, and who turn to God in Jesus to be known, understood, and accepted. (Blog: David Lose In the Meantime) So, on a weekend when we as a nation are celebrating things like our supposed strength, our might and power – can we not only give thanks for things we may consider good in our lives and in our country?  Can we also face our deep brokenness and messed-up-ness as individuals, as families, as communities, as a nation, as a world, and lay that before God?  In the person of Jesus, God is calling us to come unto him.  In the person of Jesus, we discover God in Christ who not only enters into a messed-up world that is preoccupied with power and control, but is willing to be misunderstood and become vulnerable, even to the point of death on a cross, all because of God’s deep love for this hurting world.           In Christ, we are called to turn again to the God who walks with us in our struggles, knows our pain and is present to us in our deepest despair, even in this present COVID-19 experience.  We are called to turn again to the One who calls out to us through Jesus saying, “Are you tired?  Worn out?  Burned out on religion?  Come to me.  Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.  I’ll show you how to take a real rest.  Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it.  Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.  I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.  Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”  (from Eugene Petersen’s The Message) These are words that can touch the deepest part of our being.  And, when that happens, we truly begin to understand.  We discover that we are truly known, and we are accepted by a God of love. And, most of all, we will find that this God of love understands us!  And, this God of love will lead us into wholeness and life that truly matters.

In our first episode in this series, author and pastor David Lose discussed looking at the cross and making sense of it through the context of our own experiences. In the second episode, he talked about the cross in the context of the four gospels and the different ways in which each of the evangelists presents the cross. In this final episode, David discusses three major theological views of the cross. His talks cover the following topics:The Ancient Theory ExplainedThe Ancient Theory EvaluatedThe Substitution Theory ExplainedThe Substitution Theory EvaluatedThe Love Theory ExplainedThe Love Theory Evaluated.

The most profound event of human history is the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.Far more people are puzzled about the Cross than would claim to understand it. In this second of our 3-part series on making sense of the cross, author, theologian, and pastor David Lose helps us unpack the most helpful information we need to make sense of this life-changing event.In this episode, Dr. Lose talks about:A Man Hanging on a TreeWhy Four Gospels?Matthew and the CrossMark and the CrossLuke and the CrossJohn and the Cross 

The most profound event of human history is the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.Far more people are puzzled about the cross than would claim to understand it. In this episode, author, theologian, and pastor David Lose inspires us to think deeply about what Jesus' cross might mean to you and me. David says that the best way to make sense of the cross is not through theories but through experience. This episode includes three lectures in which David talks about:The Cross and ExperienceThe Cross and ForgivenessThe Cross and Atonement

Eighth Sunday after Epiphany; February 23, 2020 (Year A); Preached at St. Paul’s BrooklineExodus 24:12-18; 2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9This morning we remember the Transfiguration, when Jesus ascends the mountain with three of his followers, is transfigured before them, and stands with Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets. This morning we remember Peter, whose impulse it is to build places for Jesus and Moses and Elijah to stay. We remember God’s voice again proclaiming Jesus God’s beloved child. And we remember that all of this disappeared as quickly as it arrived, as Jesus and his followers go back down the mountain, toward Jerusalem and all that waits for them there.This morning, we are invited to consider how we might “practice Transfiguration”in our own lives, today.Chances are that most of you are here this morning because, at some point in your life, you experienced a transfiguration of your own, though you may not have used that language.But you may have had an experience of God that planted a seed within you that would keep you seeking that experience for the remainder of your lifetime; a word spoken by an elder; knowing the unconditional love of another, or offering it yourself.I know I have had mine. The reason I find myself ordained and leading a congregation is due to a deep desire I have for others to know what I have known in my life about the transformative love of God in Christ, and to experience those moments of Transfiguration again for myself.I wonder what transformative, if not transfigurative, experiences are being held in your heart that have sustained you in your lives.Or maybe you are here because you have heard someone talk about an experience of God they have had in their life and you long for a mountain-top experience like that for yourself.Whatever longing you have in your heart, God has placed it there, and it’s all there in this story from Matthew’s Gospel. Though it seems ancient and maybe a little sci-fi, I love this story because it strikes at a basic truth for all of us who strive to follow Jesus. And that truth is that we might glimpse God on a mountaintop, and that glimpse might leave us certain of the presence of God in our life, but we are always led, from those experiences, back into the “real” world where we are to serve God, no matter how unsure of the presence of God we might again become.We keep trying to climb mountaintops, and God keeps sending us into hard work of the world.Peter wants things to stay like they were at the peak, up in the clouds. He offers to build tents for Jesus and Moses and Elijah. Set apart from the world, basking in the certainty of God’s voice and Jesus’ glow, Peter wants things to stay just like that. And who can blame him? Peter, quite literally, has his head in the clouds.But Jesus knows that the Kingdom of God is not on that mountain peak. It is back down the mountain and toward Jerusalem where he is certain of the task in front of him. The path down the mountain will lead him to the cross.We climb the mountain with Jesus, Peter, James and John this morning as we do every year on the last Sunday after the Epiphany, the last Sunday before Lent.This feast is, in our liturgical calendar, the moment we descend the mountain top seasons of Christmas and Epiphany and head into the forty days of Lent that leads us to Jerusalem and to the cross. We will turn our attention from the radiant experiences of God’s revelations among us; as an infant, as one worshiped by the Magi, presented in the temple, and baptized in the River Jordan. For weeks we have heard the stories of our faith that center on the revelation of God to the world, weeks reminded of where God is in the world and how God is moving. Weeks of mountaintop experiences.But we cannot stay there. We cannot build tents and live in Christmas or Epiphany. We must head into the world where the Kingdom of God lives.We must practice Transfiguration. (Many thanks to Carl Greg for his ideas on “practicing transfiguration.” https://www.patheos.com/blogs/carlgregg/2011/02/lectionary-commentary-practicing-transfiguration-for-march-6-2011/)To consider how we might practice Transfiguration in our own lives, we might ask ourselves how we are intentionally creating time and space to climb the mountain with Jesus as our guide. How might you place yourself in the presence of God? What feeds your relationship with God and how intentional are you about practicing it? Maybe it is weekly worship, or daily prayer. A time of intentional silence or a long quiet walk along the Muddy river. Where is God waiting to meet you, to show you the radiance of God’s glory that you might be fed and sustained for the work ahead of you?That is practicing Transfiguration.Practicing Transfiguration is also asking ourselves what tents we have built in our lives to keep God from slipping through our grasp. Is it hard to see Christ in the world because we have left him back up on the mountaintop?The tents we build have power over us. Nostalgia tricks us into thinking God was more present “back then” or “back there.” We invent the “good old days” and we place God in a place and time not our own. Remember back when Sunday schools were overflowing, back when churches were packed, back life was easier and people were nicer.More than shining faces and voices from clouds, the real myths of the Transfiguration are the tents we have built for God in our lives. These tents do nothing but rob us from God’s presence in the here and now and they ignore the reality that, while some might have been living on the mountaintops of the “Good Old Days,” it was only because countless others were living out their lives on Calvary.We are not meant to live out our lives on the mountaintop. They are but momentary and fleeting glimpses of the Divine. These glimpses serve to nourish us for the journey back into the world where we see the face of Christ in everyone we see. Down the mountain and in the world where we clothe the body of Christ, liberate the prisoner Christ, free the slave Christ, feed the hungry Christ, soothe the suffering Christ, and heal the broken Christ. We do all this, sustained by the power of the Risen Christ who is always waiting to greet us at the empty tomb.So, come. Hear the Good News. Receive the Peace of Christ and hear that you are God’s beloved. Share with us in the Breaking of Bread where we know the Lord Jesus. Experience the healing power of Christ’s Love. Bask in the radiance of God’s glory sung in joyful voices. Be transformed, and maybe even transfigured. Enjoy this time on the mountain, for there is a world of Jerusalems waiting for you, needing you, just on the other side of those doors. Alleluia. Amen.While all direct and indirect quotes are always cited, there are sources I read regularly in preparation for sermon writing. Chances are thoughts have been spurred by these sources and so I list the usual suspects here: David Lose, In the Meantime, The New Interpreters Bible, Sacra Pagina .© 2020 The Reverend Jeffrey W. Mello

Today, is not only the first Sunday of the new year and the first Sunday of a new decade.  Today is also the twelfth day of Christmas, and it is NOT about twelve drummers drumming!  No, today is all about newness!   And, as we enter a new year and a new decade with all that is going on in this world, including yet more war that seems to be looming on the horizon, we deeply need to hear the message of John’s gospel.  On this day, we need to hear John’s telling of the Jesus story because, in this gospel, we find a daring, audacious, bold message that tells of a whole new beginning for humankind, a whole new beginning for the world. The writer of John’s gospel is a big picture person.  The gospel writer begins presenting the Jesus story in a very lofty, grand manner.  And, in doing so, he is so gutsy in his telling of this new beginning through the person of Jesus that his first words to us are “In the beginning….”  If we have any understanding of Biblical literature, we will recognize that these three words are also the beginning words in the book of Genesis.  You will remember that in that first book of the Hebrew Bible we read, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”  John’s use of these three words is very intentional.  John wants his readers to know that in Jesus, we live into the beginning of a whole new creation.  The writer of John’s gospel is intentionally connecting us to the book of Genesis because, in the person of Jesus, he sees a new beginning of history, of humanity and of God’s involvement in all of creation.  In John’s telling of the Jesus story, he wants us to understand that, through the incarnate Word, Jesus the Christ, the Word made flesh, we will find a very living, breathing promise of new life.  Theologian, David Lose, suggests that “John’s story about Jesus is designed from beginning to end not just to tell us, but to evoke for us, the living, breathing promise of a new beginning to all of human history in and through the incarnate Word, Jesus the Christ. That’s why he patterns his opening after Genesis. That’s why John’s gospel records seven signs – [remember seven days as articulated in the first Genesis account of creation]?  John records seven signs or miracles in his Gospel and then culminates with the eighth sign of resurrection as the eighth day, the start of a new week, chapter, and epoch. That’s why – only in John’s Gospel – the resurrection happens in a garden, to remind us of the Garden of Eden so that we might see the resurrection as the new creation.” Yes, John wants us to know that a new creation is what God is up to and that new creation is happening through the enfleshed, living Word, in the person of Jesus Christ.  By connecting the Jesus story to Genesis, John is stipulating nothing less than this:  God poured God’s own self into human form.  “This eternal Word was God’s proactive agent in the creation of all things – even life itself – and in a paradoxical condescension took form as a baby of the most humble of origins.” (Stephen Bauman – Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 1)  For all of us, as much as we want and deeply desire to see God, we cannot literally do so.  And, our inability to literally see God seems much more apparent in times of great need, in times when the darkness of life seems to overwhelm life itself.  That darkness might come to us personally through experiences of illness, death, job loss, depression, loneliness, tragedy, and even war.  At times like these, we are keenly aware that we are simply unable to literally see God.  As our communities and the world experience horror through terrorist actions, violence in our city streets, racial injustice and the many forms of hatred espoused upon others, we collectively experience darkness and are keenly aware of our limitations when it comes to seeing God.  So, because of our limitations, God – the eternal, universal Christ who brought all of creation into being – becomes human in the person of Jesus.  God becomes human that we may see God.  In the person of Jesus, God becomes accessible to us.  In Jesus, the eternal God becomes finite and vulnerable, all for our sake so that we may see the very heart of God.  No longer is God a disembodied voice from some distant place.  The incarnation enables us to see that not only is Jesus like God, God is like Jesus, and has always been.  God loves us so deeply that God is lovingly and graciously present to us even in the darkest places and times of life.  And, all of the darkness that ever existed, that is present now, or that will exist in the future is unable to overcome the light of the universal Christ, the eternal Word, the Word made flesh, the very life force that continually animates and breathes into the entire created order – even into you and me.  Oh yes, John wants us to fully understand that, in the person of Jesus, God is doing something very, very new.  In days of old, God gave the law and the prophets to speak for God, to express God’s will.  But through Jesus, God goes even a step further.  God is actually speaking to us directly and personally in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.  God is not separate from our fleshly existence.  No, God is profoundly and intimately present to us.  We, each one of us, deeply matter to God and Jesus is God’s love letter to humanity, God’s love letter given in flesh and blood for the whole world, as God in Christ shares in our human experience.  God is as close to us as our next breath, bearing the pain we bear, enfleshed in our struggles, working with us for justice and peace, and celebrating in the joys we share. And there is more.  The coming of the Word made flesh has enabled those who follow Jesus to embody God’s word as well.  Jesus is not alone in this word made flesh business.  The creative, living Word is still at work in and through us.  Because of God’s decision to come to us in a form we recognize, in Jesus the Christ, we are empowered to reach out to those around us.  In fact, God is at work putting skin on God’s Word through us.  By the grace of God and, through baptism and the work of the Spirit, we are called to bear God’s creative and redeeming Word in this world and carry God’s Word of life and love to others through all that we do and the way in which we live.  In the person of Jesus, God has invaded this broken, hurting, warring world and God is working through God’s people, shining the light of God’s presence even in the darkest places of this world.  The living Word, the God of love, the Word made flesh has moved into the neighborhood, and that is what we are called to live. So, on this first Sunday of the new year and on this twelfth day of Christmas, we celebrate the universal Christ, the living Word of love that has taken on flesh and moved into the neighborhood so that we can be made new.  Theologian, Thomas Troeger, has written a poem about that Word and how it changes us.  He writes: How do you spell the word? Where do you search and look – amidst the coos and cries you’ve heard or in a well-thumbed book?   Hold back the swift reply, the pious, worn cliché that softens how the child will die when violence has its way.   Instead, let all you do embody truth and grace, and you will spell the word anew in every time and place. (Feasting on the Word, p. 193)            It is my prayer that, as we enter a new year and a new decade, we continually spell that living Word of love anew in all the times and places of our lives – wherever life takes us!

I have a sign above my desk and I look at it each week as I write my sermon.  It contains a quote from theologian, Soren Kierkegaard, about preaching and the proclamation of the Word.  He wrote, “People have an idea that the preacher is an actor on a stage, and they are the critics, blaming or praising him (or her).   What they don’t know is that they are the actors on the stage; he [or she] (the preacher) is merely the prompter standing in the wings, reminding them of their lost lines.”  I really appreciate Kierkegaard’s words when he says the gathered people are the actors and the preacher is the prompter standing in the wings reminding the people of their lost lines, the lines they are called to remember as they experience the liturgy of worship and then go out and live that liturgy in their daily lives.  Today, we hear of this preacher, John the Baptist, standing in the wings of the wilderness on the banks of the Jordan river, crying out lost lines to the actors saying, “This is it!  Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.  Turn around, turn back to God.”  And, I have to say that for someone who might be considered a “prompter standing in the wings,” John the Baptist is really stealing the show.  You just gotta love John the Baptist!  He is such a colorful figure.  I love it when he appears on the scene each Advent.  This intriguing, weird, bizarre, eccentric, oddball, prophetic guy who eats bugs, wears clothing made of camel’s hair and lives in the wilderness, is the one who introduces us to the stories of Jesus’ ministry in all four of the gospels.  Now, quite honestly, if such a person appeared in our neighborhood, we would probably call the police.  Yet, John is the one who introduces us to the narratives of Jesus’ ministry.  And, in Matthew, he bursts on the scene with this fiery, colorful language as he bombastically calls people to repent. So, what is repentance?  I think far too many of us think repentance means simply saying you are sorry, and you will never do it – whatever “it” is – again.  However, when we look at scripture, the Greek word for repentance is metanoia, a word that refers to far more than simply being or saying one is sorry for past sins.  It is far more than mere regret or remorse for such sins.  While that is in part what repentance means, the heart of the word refers to a turning away from the past way of life, a turning around, and turning to the inauguration of a new one.  It literally means, “If you’re on the wrong road, turn around and go the other way!”           An even better understanding of repentance comes from theologian, Richard Jensen.  His is truly a very Lutheran understanding when he describes repentance as it relates to baptism.  And, by the way, baptism is something that John the Baptist is doing as he calls people to repent.  Jensen writes: The daily baptismal experience has many names. It may be called repentance. Unfortunately, repentance is often understood as an "I can" experience. "I am sorry for my sins. I can do better. I can please you, God." So often we interpret repentance as our way of turning to God. That cannot be. Christianity is not about an individual turning to God. Christianity is about God turning to us. In repenting, therefore, we ask the God who has [already] turned towards us, buried us in baptism and raised us to new life, to continue his work of putting us to death. Repentance is an "I can't" experience. To repent is to volunteer for death. Repentance asks that the "death of self" which God began to work in us in baptism continue to this day. The repentant person comes before God saying, "I can't do it myself, God. Kill me and give me new life. You buried me in baptism. Bury me again today. Raise me to a new life." That is the language of repentance. Repentance is a daily experience that renews our baptism. [Touched by the Sprit, p. 49] I would add that we should note the command to, “Repent,” as we find it in today’s reading, is in present tense.  This denotes continual or repeated actions: "Keep on repenting!" "Continually be repentant!" It isn't like a door we pass through once that gets us into the kingdom.  Repentance is meant to be the ongoing lifestyle of God’s children.  And, repentance and its seal in baptism signal another theme to be sounded repeatedly in Matthew: God's power is present, but it is not unrelated to what we do and how we live.  One thing is clear for Matthew, God's power calls for and enables a transformed new life of discipleship. Repentance then directs our vision not so much to sorrow for the past, but to the promise of a new beginning. The promise is that, because God's reign, God’s kingdom, is so near, it has the power to bring about this new orientation of life. And what is this new orientation?  Well, it is Gods’ vision for this world, God’s deep desire for peace and equity for all.  It is that dream of God we talked about last week.  It is what we find in Isaiah’s vision in our first reading today, Isaiah’s hope-filled vision for all of creation.  In Isaiah, we are given images of God’s dream for this world – images of righteousness, of equity, of peace, of the cessation of harm, the end of war, and the unity of all nations under the rule of God.  As people who live into the reign of God, that is people who live into the presence and power of God, we live into a world where God’s reign, God’s kingdom, is so near it has the power to bring about this new orientation of life.    I find it interesting that dreams, especially hope-filled dreams, have a way of shaping what it is we are enabled to see.  Theologian, James Boyce, suggests, “Hope-filled dreams are like lenses that train us to interpret and to act in the present. Each generation learns to dream the visions that are taught by those who have dreamed before and by those who are able to keep dreaming in the present. To borrow a metaphor, every Christian needs to have a ‘hope chest.’”  For Christians, our hope chest holds this vision of God’s dream for the world.  And, so we dream not just about what is, but about what it might be if God's reign is indeed drawing near.  God invites us to dream something beyond what we can presently see.  We are invited to dream God’s dream about a different world where there is no predator or prey, no fear or hatred.  And, this is the dream that sets our course as we live into the reign of God, as we live into the presence and power of what God is already doing in this world.  So, on this second Sunday of Advent as we prepare our hearts to make room for Christ’s arrival, I encourage you to turn around, turn toward God who has already turned toward you, and live into God’s dream for the world.  I think we will again be surprised at what God is up to.  We will again be surprised that the God of the universe was willing to enter our very lives and our history and take on our vulnerability in order to give us hope.  The God we know in Jesus comes down to us, to take on our lot and our life and give us hope by being with us and for us.  And, this God who comes down to pitch a tent among us in the person of Jesus, is inviting us to live God’s dream, helping us to see in the face of our neighbor, not a competitor for scarce resources, not an enemy, not a person to fear, but a brother or sister in Christ. (David Lose)   Yes, today, John the Baptist is the preacher standing in the wings, prompting us and giving us our lost lines.  He is there pointing beyond himself to God, telling us the advent of a new age is upon us.  He is telling us that, in the person of Jesus, God is guiding us as we move through the wilderness of life and live into God’s kingdom of hope and love.

Over the past few months, I have been thinking a great deal about leadership and the personal characteristics we look for and value in good leaders.  Leadership is something many of us think about as we look to the future. In fact, as I have been struggling with the need for leadership on many levels within the life of the faith community, I realize how important it is for us to understand what leadership means in the life of the church.  So, I find it very interesting that as we come to this last Sunday of the church year, that Sunday when we proclaim the reign of Christ as all in all, we receive scripture readings that force us to really grapple with what leadership looks like.  On this day we are essentially confronted with the question, “What does it mean for us to name Christ as our leader?  What can it mean for us to name Christ as our King?” It is truly difficult for most Americans to understand living under royal rule.  After all, our identity as a nation was borne out of the experience of breaking away from royal rule and kingship.  When we think of a king, we tend to think of a ruler with authoritarian power.  When we think of kings and powerful leaders, we think of those who oversee the work and bureaucracy of a nation.  We think of one who is in charge, and we hope for a leader who is honest, has integrity, grants citizens a measure of security and affirms the values of the people.  We look to leaders who promise a better tomorrow for all people.  We tend to think of kings and rulers as people who hold positions of honor, people who are looked up to.  When we picture a king, we think of looking up to one who has power, to one who has been exalted.  So, on this day, as we think about leadership, we look to Christ as our leader and ask what it means for us to name Christ as our king and Lord. Theologian, Robert Capon, in Hunting the Divine Fox, presents an interesting assessment of what American popular religion perceives Christ to be like, and I have to say it doesn't look much like Jesus.  He writes: . . . almost nobody resists the temptation to jazz up the humanity of Christ. The true paradigm of the ordinary American view of Jesus is Superman: "Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It's Superman! Strange visitor from another planet, who came to earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men, and who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice and the American Way." If that isn't popular christology, I'll eat my hat. Jesus -- gentle, meek and mild, but with secret, souped-up, more-than‑human insides -- bumbles around for thirty-three years, nearly gets himself done in for good by the Kryptonite Kross, but at the last minute, struggles into the phone booth of the Empty Tomb, changes into his Easter suit and, with a single bound, leaps back up to the planet Heaven. It's got it all -- including, just so you shouldn't miss the lesson, kiddies: He never once touches Lois Lane. You think that's funny? Don't laugh. The human race is, was and probably always will be deeply unwilling to accept a human messiah. We don't want to be saved in our humanity; we want to be fished out of it. We crucified Jesus, not because he was God, but because he blasphemed: He claimed to be God and then failed to come up to our standards for assessing the claim. It's not that we weren't looking for the Messiah; it's just that he wasn't what we were looking for. Our kind of Messiah [our kind of king] would come down from a cross. He would carry a folding phone booth in his back pocket. He wouldn't do a stupid thing like rising from the dead. He would do a smart thing like never dying. Well, today we are given a picture of Christ the King, this one we call “Lord.”  And, in the picture we are given, this King is not revealed to us by looking up, but by looking down.  The royal face God reveals to us through the person of Jesus does not aspire to the heights of glory, power, wealth or fame.  No, to see the kingship revealed in Jesus, the Christ, we must look down to the lowly life Jesus chose to walk. So, what can it mean for us to name Christ as our King?  On this day, the writer of Luke’s gospel gives us an answer as he completely shatters our perceptions of what a king or ruler should look like. Our gospel reading is one in which Jesus, our King, is being derided, mocked and taunted.  Luke gives us the picture of one who has been falsely charged with fomenting rebellion against Rome.  He gives us a picture of Jesus on the cross, insulted, mocked and killed.  Today, we see Jesus, our King, as one who hangs there dying.   And what is revealed in this passage is miserable, deeply moving and shocking.  Quite frankly, we would prefer to hide our face rather than watch someone who is truly honorable be tortured, because even our compassion is not able to help this one who hangs there, this one we call “Lord.”  The last moments of Jesus’ life all seem to be in stark contrast to what is valued as great in our world, to what we think kingship and leadership look like.  Jesus did not and does not come in power.  In fact, he refuses to come in power but instead appears in wretched vulnerability.  And, in doing so, he breaks a law, the law of death.  He breaks this law by ushering in God’s law of love.  You see, Jesus does not come vowing retribution even on those who crucify him.  Instead, he comes offering forgiveness and suffering love.  This Jesus does not come down off the cross to prove that he is a king with power.  Instead, he remains on that instrument of torture, humiliated and representing all who suffer unjustly.  And, this Jesus does not promise us a better tomorrow, but offers to redeem us today, right now in this present moment.  When talking about the redemption offered us today, theologian, David Lose, writes: Jesus doesn’t tell the repentant criminal that someday in the future he will enter into God’s presence but instead says, “Today, you shall be with me in paradise.”  Today, now, in this very moment.  Christians have sometimes been accused of pining for a distant and better future and therefore sitting out the struggles and challenges of the day.  But in these verses Jesus is focused on this very moment, promising that those who believe in him, those who see in his vulnerability the revelation of God’s [overwhelming] mercy and [abundant] grace, will be ushered into God’s presence immediately.   This King we see hanging on a cross rules by pouring out redemption, forgiveness and suffering love upon the entire world.  As Jesus hangs on a cross, we see a King who does not lord his greatness over all others, but instead forgives enemies and offers redemption to criminals.  And, in Jesus’ crucifixion and death, we discover that this leader, this King, is one who is numbered with the criminals.  This leader is counted as one of the transgressors.  This innocent One does not hang out with those in power but with the sinners, with criminals, with the weak and the vulnerable, living and dying in solidarity with all those the powerful despise.  And, as this King is ruling from a cross, he calls us to follow his example by serving, forgiving and loving all those in our lives, loving all those we consider “other.”    So, what does it mean for us to name Christ as our King?  Well, for any who call Jesus “Lord,” it means we are called to join God’s “insistent, consistent, and persistent solidarity with the weak, the oppressed, and the forgotten of this world.  In short, the church of Jesus Christ reveals itself as faithful to its Lord only in so far as it stands with those who are most vulnerable.” (David Lose)   Whatever our desire for strength and security happens to be, the leader to whom we look is the one who leaves behind all strength and power and status, emptying himself and taking the form of a servant (Phil 2:7) in order to redeem those who are weak, vulnerable and lost.  And, guess what?  That includes us!   This one whom we call “Lord” is the one who redeems us today, forgives us always, showers and bathes us in suffering love, and sets us free to stand with those in need around us as we see in them the very presence of the God who always takes the side of the vulnerable.  That is what leadership looks like.

The Cost of Discipleship is the title of a book by German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  In it, Bonhoeffer spells out what he believes it means to follow Christ, what discipleship really is all about.    Bonhoeffer understood that following Jesus is not always easy.  He wanted to honestly communicate the message that, if you live into a life of discipleship, there will be costs to living such a life.  And, ultimately, toward the end of World War II, Bonhoeffer was killed because of his commitment to following Jesus. In our gospel reading for today, we find Jesus bluntly teaching about the costs involved if we are to live a life of discipleship and faithfully follow him.  And, I have to say, his words about discipleship are daunting and uncomfortable to hear.  Today, we find Jesus speaking to a large crowd of people.  Among the throng, there were some who were contemplating the possibility of becoming disciples.  Jesus’ response to them communicates the seriousness of discipleship and his words make it clear that faithful discipleship is not for the faint of heart.  The stakes have been rising throughout this chapter in Luke, and it is becoming clearer just what is at stake when one says he or she wants to follow Jesus.  Jesus bluntly spells out the high cost of discipleship.  For example, can you imagine inviting someone to come and be part of our community of faith and saying to them, “Come and check us out this Sunday and we’ll tell you how hard it is to join our church.  First, you’ve got to hate your family.  Then, you must carry a cross like a condemned criminal.  Along with that, we expect you to give up everything you have worked hard to have.  Do these things and you can call yourself a member of our community of Faith.”  Now, that sounds like a sure and certain way to grow a church!  Right? Well, I think we need to unpack what Jesus is saying and take a deep dive into exploring the meaning of this passage.  First, Jesus says, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters – yes, even his own life – he cannot be my disciple.”  Now, most of us, when we think of Jesus, usually connect his message to themes of love and not hate.  “Hate” is such a strong word and it seems contradictory to our understanding of the Christian life.  And, in our nation, a culture that often elevates “family values” by placing them higher than almost anything else, the idea of hating family is offensive.   When unpacking this word, theologian, John Petty, writes: The word "hate" is laden with emotion in our cultural context.  It suggests repulsion at a visceral level.  In this case, in the context of first century middle-eastern culture, to "hate" [one's family or] one’s own self means that the person disconnects from everything that has heretofore defined that person.  To put it another way, one's past no longer defines who they are.  One's identity is no longer formed by one's former allegiances, nor one's experiences in life, nor even one's genetics.  These are part of the old world which is giving way to the new world of God.  Followers of Jesus are not defined by the past, but by their work in the present and their future hope. Jesus uses hyperbole to get across the seriousness of what it means to follow him.  Jesus understands the transformation which occurs in the life of a disciple.  Once a follower commits to Jesus, then life, relationships, time, and possessions are viewed through the lens of Jesus.  Even family relationships pale in comparison to our relationship with God.  Our relationship to God is our first priority and ultimate concern.           Yes, Jesus’ words are surprising and daunting.  And, he is not yet finished.  He continues on saying, “Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”  Well, this demand had to hit some of the people like a ton of bricks and take their breath away.  In all likelihood, some of them had witnessed the public shame and humiliation of a condemned criminal carrying his cross through the city streets to the place of execution, just as Jesus himself would eventually do.  Quite honestly, we hear so much about the cross and cross bearing that I don’t think we are able to always grasp what Jesus is saying.  In fact, the language of cross bearing has been corrupted by overuse.  Bearing a cross has nothing to do with experiences like living with chronic illness, painful physical conditions, or trying family relationships. It is instead what we do voluntarily, as a consequence of our commitment to Jesus Christ. Cross bearing requires deliberate sacrifice and exposure to risk and ridicule in order to follow Jesus. And, this commitment is not just a way of life, it is a commitment to a person. A disciple follows another person and learns a new way of life. [Luke, New Interpreter’s Bible, p. 293]   It is interesting to note that the term for “cost” appears only once in the New Testament, and it is in this passage.  When Jesus talks about the cross and the cost of discipleship, he gets down to the meat and potatoes of what following him really is about.  The cost inevitably has to do with what you give up, what you sacrifice, what you deny, and the choices you make.   Life is always full of choices.  Life is about counting and weighing the cost of the many things, events and opportunities that vie for our attention.  Sporting events, family events, work events, the list is endless.  But, to carry your cross is to carry the choices and burdens and realities of a life that has made a certain commitment to bringing about the Kingdom of God here and now. That’s certainly what it meant for Jesus.  In his weekly blog, theologian, David Lose, writes: Jesus isn’t inviting meaningless sacrifice. He isn’t inviting door-mat discipleship or a whiney Christianity (“that’s just my cross to bear”). Rather, he’s inviting us to a full-bodied Christian faith that stands over and against all those things that are often presented to us as life by the culture. Jesus invites us, that is, to the kind of abundant life that is discovered only as you give yourself away. The kingdom of God Jesus proclaims is about life and love. And just as love is one thing that only grows when it’s given away, so also is genuine and abundant life….The choices we make, the relationships we decide to pursue, the way we spend this life we’ve been given, may cause not just puzzlement but dissatisfaction, even upset, among those we care about. But the question before us, as put so fiercely by Moses in the first reading, is whether we will choose life or death. Always the consummate teacher, Jesus then uses two parables to emphasize his point.  First, he describes building a tower and the process used to build it.  Using a form of cost-benefit analysis, he says, “A wise person estimates the cost.  Is it worth it?  Can I complete it?  In the same manner, a wise ruler calculates the cost of the war before going into battle.  Is it worth it?  Can I complete the war?”  Our vocation and call as disciples is always played out in our daily lives by the choices we make.  The decision-making process often requires an aspect of cost-benefit analysis, and sometimes choosing life – life that truly matters – is very costly.  As my dear friend Bill Uetricht says, “To follow Jesus, you have to count the cost.  It isn’t going to be easy.  It’s going to take you to some uncomfortable places.  It is going to challenge some basic assumptions you have about life.  It is going to unsettle all your little pet projects.”  However, we weigh our choices in light of the gift of love and grace God has given us.  And, for those who hear a call to discipleship, Jesus himself becomes the sorting principle – Jesus, the embodiment of self-offering love, of mercy and compassion, the one who is our “true north.”  We follow the one who loved this world so much he went to the cross.  Following Jesus is not easy, but His word is still the best news this world has ever heard for bad times or good, and that is what you and I are called to remember together. Discipleship is demanding. Discipleship is a delightful thing, and discipleship is an intentional, determined thing. If you would follow Him, come with all that you are and with all you have.  The promise of life, abundant life, life that truly matters is always in front of us. And, the promise of God’s unconditional love, forgiveness and grace far outweigh whatever the cost discipleship might bring.  May God’s love free us to choose life and daily center our lives in Christ, beginning right here and right now.  

On this holiday weekend, as we explore today’s gospel reading, we again discover Christ’s call to be vulnerable and hospitable, two aspects of life that I fear are diminishing in our culture.  For this reason, I find Jesus’ words to us today to be very meaningful.  They are also helpful because he talks about community.  And, we live in a culture that is continually experiencing the disintegration of community life. As Americans, we have fallen in love with the idea of the self-made person.  We love the rags to riches story.  We have created the myth that if you make it to the top of your profession, you deserve a huge salary because you are the one responsible for getting to the top.   We have this sense in which we are to live as invulnerable human beings.  This rugged individual ethos permeates virtually every aspect of our lives.  It infuses the way in which we think about achievement, education, vocation, the way we are to live and raise our children, the way we perceive others, the way we relate to others, the way in which we welcome others, and even the way in which we understand religion and faith.  When writing about the challenge of individualism in our present culture, theologian, David Lose, suggests, “this individualism we celebrate is as much a myth of the culture as is our invulnerability.  The pilgrims and pioneers who settled this land were incredibly aware that their survival depended on each other.  The colonies they eventually established, after all, we called ‘commonwealths,’ places where the good of any individual was inextricably linked to the good of the whole.  And as Benjamin Franklin said at the signing of the Declaration of Independence, ‘We must hang together, or assuredly we will all hang separately.’”  The truth of the matter is, the people who founded this country needed each other and needed community in order to survive.  It is striking to me that, on this holiday weekend as we celebrate our nation and our identity as people, we have a Bible reading that teaches us about vulnerability, hospitality and community.  When it comes to a life of faith the reality is that the Bible paints a picture of life that rarely coincides with our culture’s most commonly held assumptions.  Today, the writer of Luke’s gospel presents the antithesis of an individualistic, self-sufficient, invulnerable way of thinking and being as we learn about Jesus sending his disciples on a mission.   Jesus sends seventy disciples out and he does not send them to be self-sufficient.  No, he sends them out completely unprepared!  Inescapable vulnerability is implicit in the mission to which Jesus calls his disciples.  Their well-being is utterly dependent on the people to whom they have been sent, some of whom will respond with hostility rather than hospitality.  And you can never tell which you’re going to get until it’s too late. I love the way this story is told in The Message translation of the Bible.  We hear Jesus say the following: “What a huge harvest!  And how few the harvest hands.  So, on your knees; ask the God of the Harvest to send harvest hands.  On your way!  But be careful – this is hazardous work.  You’re like lambs in a wolf pack.  Travel light.  Comb and toothbrush and no extra luggage.  Don’t loiter and make small talk with everyone you meet along the way.  When you enter a home, greet the family, ‘Peace.’  If your greeting is received, then it’s a good place to stay.  But if it’s not received, take it back and get out.  Don’t impose yourself.  Stay at one home, taking your meals there, for a worker deserves three square meals.  Don’t move from house to house, looking for the best cook in town.  When you enter a town and are received, eat what they set before you, heal anyone who is sick, and tell them, ‘God’s kingdom is right on your doorstep!’  When you enter a town and are not received, go out in the street and say, ‘The only thing we got from you is the dirt on our feet, and we’re giving it back.  Did you have any idea that God’s kingdom was right on your doorstep?’”            Yes, inescapable vulnerability is implicit in the mission to which Jesus calls and sends his disciples.  He sends them out in pairs, not individually, and instructs them to rely entirely upon the hospitality of others.  He is also blunt about how difficult and dangerous this mission might be.  The seventy will be going into a hostile world, yet Jesus does not arm them for battle; rather, they will go out like lambs among wolves.  Jesus sends them seemingly unprepared and quite uncertain of what they will encounter.  And, no matter how hard they try, they cannot control the outcome.  The outcome depends totally on God.  Some of the people they visit will not share in the message and peace they offer. Sometimes, whole towns will reject them.  But, the gift Jesus gives as he sends them is the gift of his presence, the promise that he goes with them, and the gift of teamwork and trusting obedience.  As they work together, entering into this shared mission, their hope and welfare are inextricably linked to that of those around them and those they meet.  Jesus commands vulnerable dependence from his disciples as they go proclaiming the good news that God’s kingdom has drawn near.  And, the role of hospitality in their mission cannot be overstated.  The hospitality of this group of disciples is shown in their mission of peace, in which they avoid all forms of exploitation, self-centeredness, and personal gain.  Their single purpose is to prepare others to encounter Jesus.  They are told to do this through relational, grateful presence and gracious conversation.            Today’s reading is instructional for us on this holiday weekend.  We live in a world that is increasingly narcissistic.  We live in a world that is increasingly “I” and “me” centered with progressively harsh edges that divide, a culture in which weaponized rhetoric and hostility against any we perceive as “other” spews forth.  Yet, we follow in the footsteps of the seventy messengers.  We have been called as a community of people, not individuals, a community of people to live and share with all others the good news of God’s love, grace, healing and peace.  This is the mission of the church.  This is how we are called to live as we relate to all others, and this is what we are called to proclaim.  We are not to stay cocooned in this building.  We have been sent out to do the work God calls us to do.  We do not work alone because our mission is a shared mission.  We work together as the community of Christ and our hope and welfare are inextricably linked to that of those around us.  Together, we have been appointed to go out into the world and announce that God’s kingdom is right on people’s doorstep!   And we go remembering Jesus’ promise that he is with us as we invite others into this mission of which we are a part.  This Jesus mission is always one of compassion, one that respects the dignity of all persons.  This Jesus mission is always one of grace, forgiveness, meaning, purpose and peace.  This Jesus mission means working and living together in intimate community, becoming vulnerable and, yes, giving up our need to control.  And, guess what?  When we live in this way, it makes this this mission and the work we do a lot more fun because it is all about what God is doing and has already done and it is not about us.  All we need to do is live into God’s call and tend to the harvest God has already planted! 

The Rev Dr. David Lose, joined us for the annual Stern Lecture, and preached on Sunday morning for both services. Dr. Lose is the Senior Pastor of Mount Olivet Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, MN.

Promises of Advent Week Three: A Promise Each of Us Is Invited IntoEach day is an opportunity to be slightly less terrible living between the expectations we have and the hope things will get better. We are called into a life of tiny little steps where we compare ourselves to who we were yesterday not who someone else is today. Living in the Kingdom of God isn't as much about being a monk or a spiritual pilgrim as much as it is you being you under the power of the Holy Spirit through the ordinary circumstances of your life.Insights by David Lose, Jim Wilder, Jordan Peterson, John the Baptist…and Jesus

The Promises of Advent: A Promise So Ordinary It's Easy To MissSecond in a four part series (attrib. David Lose) for the season on Advent. Based on Luke 3:1-6A Battle Royal of the seven rulers of the known world of the first century Holy Land vs. John the Nobody…and JesusIt's the same today, no matter what is happening in our lives, putting us down for the count, we will overcome because we have the champion of the universe fighting for us…Jeeeessssuuusss!

First in a four part series (attrib. David Lose) for the season on Advent. Based on Luke 21:25-36The risk we take when we live out, “I believe…” Is this real or just a fantasy…Find out

Sermon based on Mark 9:30-37 St. Thomas Aquinas once said, “Fear is such a powerful emotion for humans that when we allow it to take over within us, it drives compassion right out of our hearts.”  Change, transition, uncertainty, chaos and earth-shattering news all create within us a sense of fear.  So, it is fitting that today’s gospel reading helps us look at this very human emotion.  In today’s gospel passage, Jesus continues to teach discipleship to the twelve.   He again gives them earth-shattering, mind-blowing information, and they are bewildered and afraid!  Today, we hear Jesus again tell the disciples he is going to be killed.  It is the second time he tells them he will soon be betrayed, murdered, and after three days rise from the dead!  Jesus’ words are so explosive the disciples simply cannot wrap their minds around what he says.   Throughout the gospel of Mark, the disciples are portrayed as a motley group of knuckleheads who just don’t get it and, in today’s reading, they truly live up to their reputation.  You see, they are still thinking Jesus will be the one who will provide the Jewish people political deliverance from Rome.  The prospect of Jesus being killed simply does not compute.  This Jesus whom they believe is the promised Messiah is telling them that redemption of Israel will take place through suffering!  Who could possibly imagine that?  How could anyone believe that an all-powerful God would conquer enemies and provide deliverance through suffering and death? The disciples are bewildered and what do they do?  Well, they stay silent and they do not ask Jesus to clarify what he is saying.  They do not ask Jesus to answer the many questions swirling about in their confused minds.  No.  Why do they not ask?  Mark simply says it is because they were afraid.  And, we are left to wonder, why are they afraid?  Do they fear they might appear to be confused?   Do they fear they might appear uninformed, clueless, or stupid, yet again?  Do they fear they might appear unfaithful?  Or, do they fear they might get answers they do not want to hear and are not ready to hear? The disciples’ failure to understand and ask questions seems rather annoying.  But, how often do we act in precisely the same manner?  How often are we afraid to ask a question because we think we should already know the answer?  How often are we simply afraid to show our ignorance?  In a world where we work so hard, striving to succeed, how can we possibly let ourselves appear so vulnerable?  And, how often are we possibly afraid of the answer we will get?  Are we afraid of being a follower and living the truth of Jesus’ passion?  As a congregation, what are our fears as a community of faith?  Do we fear the decisions we make may cause us to lose members?  Or, do we fail to make decisions because we fear the development of conflict?  As we look at another calendar year, and this week begin our annual stewardship drive, does our anxiety create a fear that we will not make the budget?  Theologian, David Lose, when exploring this reading, suggests:   All these fears … strip life of pleasure and joy and make it very difficult to be wise and faithful stewards of the present moment and resources with which God has entrusted us.  Jesus’ response to our fears and anxieties is an invitation not to faith as intellectual assent – as if believing in God somehow prohibits fear – but rather to faith as movement, faith as taking a step forward (even a little step) in spite of doubt and fear, faith as doing even the smallest thing in the hope and trust of God’s promises. Quite frankly, fear is the opposite of faith.  Fear has the power to paralyze us, to distort our thinking and drive us into despair.  As we think about the disciples’ fear, it is interesting to note their reaction.  Rather than asking questions and facing their fears, they begin to argue.  And, what is more interesting is that they are not even arguing about what Jesus said.  They begin to fight about which one of them is the greatest!  Again, the disciples are not much different from each one of us.  How often have we seen this happen in the church, within our own communities and even within our own families?  Some incident, event, experience or person upsets the system.  Then, fear raises its ugly head.  People become fearful of possibly losing out in some way and so they strive to get to the top, to attain the best position of power so they are the ones in control.  People fear there is not enough love to go around.  People fear change within the system, and suddenly tempers flare and an argument ensues.   And, just like the disciples in today’s story, the fighting has nothing to do with the real issue but we react by arguing about something else because we cannot face our fear.  When Jesus asks the disciples what they are arguing about, again, there is silence and it is deafening.  And, I think most of us can relate to such a silence.  Anyway, Jesus knows what they have been fighting about.  So, he again teaches about discipleship saying, “So you want first place?  So, you want to be at the top?  Then, take the last place.  Be servant of all.”  To help them understand, he places a curious, vulnerable child in their midst.  Now, to understand what is really happening here, we must understand that children were thought of very differently in this ancient culture than they are in our culture.  Nadia Boz Weber succinctly articulates the difference between the way children were regarded then as opposed to the manner in which we treat our children today.  She says: These children didn’t exactly take bubble baths every night before being tucked into their Sesame Street bed sheets and read Goodnight Moon.  There was no sentimentality about childhood because childhood was actually a time of terror.  Children in those days only really had value as replacement adults but until then they were more like mongrel dogs than they were beloved members of a family.  And they weren’t even really housebroken.  They just kind of leaked everywhere and they died like, all the time.  Children were dirty and useless and often unwanted and to teach his disciples about greatness and hospitality, Jesus puts not a chubby-faced angel, but THIS kind of child in the center, folds THIS kind of child into his arms and says when you welcome the likes of THIS child you welcome me. In a culture where children were of no consequence, given no value and considered socially invisible, Jesus cradles a dirty, smelly, rejected little child in his arms and says, “Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me, and far more than me – God who sent me.” Wow!   What a lesson in discipleship!  Not only has Jesus hit the disciples with earth shattering news, he again turns their thinking, and ours, inside out and upside down.  My friends, fear has the power to blind us to what God is doing here among us as we live together in community.  Fear has the power to blind us to what God is up to in this world.  Fear has the power to blind us from recognizing God’s kingdom at work as it is breaking in upon us.  Fear has the power to blind us from recognizing those we consider “other” as children of God.  Fear prevents us from seeing Jesus in a different way and that is challenging because, if we see Jesus in a different way, we begin to see each other in a different way.  And, you can count on the fact that when Jesus breaks into our lives with overwhelming grace he is always going to challenge us, challenge our assumptions, change our world and change us as we are called to travel and move more deeply into a life of discipleship. Jesus continues to teach what real discipleship is all about by telling us that greatness in the kingdom of God means becoming a servant.  And, oh my, in doing so he turns our thinking and understanding of success upside down!  Discipleship means taking the last place and not being on top.  It is so hard to do this because we want to be in control and we are so fearful of letting go and letting God take control.  Jesus says that discipleship Jesus’ style means welcoming the child, welcoming those who are socially invisible, welcoming those whom the rest of society excludes, and welcoming those the world does not value, those whom we tend to fear.  Discipleship, Jesus’ style, means welcoming those who do nothing but are simply welcomed and embraced.  In reality, the vulnerable, dirty child who fearlessly comes with questions is where discipleship begins.  The truth of the matter is, discipleship begins as we become the child on Jesus’ lap.

As many of you know, I have done considerable work with system thinking, specifically looking at family systems and the way in which they deeply shape our lives.  Each person is born into multiple systems – a family system, a social system, a cultural system, a system of customs, etc. The way we live together in community, our social class, the language we speak, and even our religion are all shaped by these systems.   These multiple systems also shape us as we grow, mature and live our daily lives.  The characteristics of these systems affect how one learns to think and behave at home, school, work, and in various social settings.  The manner in which we have been shaped affects how we interact and communicate and with people at any level.  And, quite honestly, it is hard to break free of the way we react to circumstances and situations, simply because of the way we have been shaped by these systems.  In fact, my coach once explained it to me this way.  She said, “When you are born into a system, it is as though you are born into a fast-moving current and you cannot change or break free from some of the systemic function unless you intentionally work to break away from that current.”  This is part of what it means to grow and change and become mature in life.  This is a very human aspect of living.  So, I find today’s gospel reading fascinating because the gospel writer tells us about a very human Jesus, a Jesus who moves beyond the dictates of custom, a system that had shaped him.  For most of us, our image of Jesus was shaped by stories we learned in childhood and the pictures we have seen, pictures that were often used in children’s Bibles.  And, quite frankly, most of those pictures depict a calm, happy, inviting, yes even white Jesus – a Jesus who is never reactive and really does not display honest human emotions. However, if we take a realistic look at the gospels, we can begin to see a very different picture of Jesus.  In all four Gospels, we find stories where Jesus displays deeply human, even unlikable, characteristics.  There are times when he really seems annoyed with the stupidity of the disciples, and other times when he seems truly overwhelmed by the burden he is bearing.  There are stories where Jesus is reclusive, grumpy and even sarcastic.  And, today, we get one of those stories as we are given a glimpse of a very human Jesus. In the chapters preceding today’s story, Jesus has been performing miracles.  He has fed the 5,000 and walked on water.  He has been healing the sick and demon-possessed, and there is no doubt he is seeking some much-needed rest.  So today, as he seeks respite, we find him heading into the region of Tyre and Sidon, land that is Gentile, pagan territory.  While there, he is noticed and approached by a Phoenician woman with connections to Syria.  And, her daughter is possessed by an unclean spirit.  She begs him to cure her daughter.  And, Jesus replies, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Whoa!!  Jesus rebuffs this woman and dismisses her with a blatant, ethnic slur.  You see, during Biblical times, the word “dog” was commonly used as a derogatory insult.  And, the Gentiles were so despised and considered so unclean, the Jewish people referred to them as “dogs.”   Anyway, Jesus’ response to this foreign woman does not stop there.  He also makes it clear that his own people, the Jews, should be fed first.  He is saying, it isn’t right to take food that is meant for the Jews and give it to dogs, the Gentiles.  I have to say, this is probably not the image of Jesus we usually conjure up in our minds.  As theologian, David Lose, suggests: We want to think of Jesus as full-bodied, perfect, and immutable from birth, kind of like Athena springing full-grown from the head of Zeus.  But if we are to take Mark’s narrative seriously, never mind the incarnational and creedal affirmation that Jesus is fully human as well as fully divine, then perhaps we should not be surprised to see a development in Jesus’ own recognition of God’s vision for the world.  After all, the profoundly expansive notion of a kingdom that included everyone – no exceptions! – was completely and totally novel.  And, truthfully, it still is!     Well, what is so amazing about this story is that this woman does not back down.  She does not become defensive and, instead of being offended or discouraged, she presses on.  She has a sick daughter and she wants healing for her daughter.  So, this culturally unconventional woman who is breaking all kinds of rules by coming to Jesus in the first place, uses Jesus’ own words against him and bests him in this argument saying, “Fine, you can call me a dog, but even dogs get crumbs that fall from the table.”  This Gentile woman is the only person in scripture who wins an argument with Jesus!   I want to say to her “You go girl!” and cheer her on. The truth of the matter is, this Gentile woman teaches Jesus, a Jewish man who had been totally immersed in and shaped by the systemic dictates of Jewish custom.  Driven by something more powerful than protocol, this courageous, prophetic, Syrophoenician woman confronts Jesus, and he has a “conversion” experience.  This woman of great faith changes Jesus, and he responds by intentionally leaving the strong current of custom dictated by Jewish socialization.  This woman’s action helps to open Jesus up for ministry to the Gentiles.  Impressed by the woman’s courage and faith, Jesus responds saying, “You’re right!  On your way. Your daughter is no longer disturbed.  The demonic affliction is gone.” (The Message) This Gentile woman’s action does something else which is remarkable.  She crosses the Jewish/Gentile boundary, a barrier established by human beings, a boundary created to separate and discriminate.  The barrier that had been created to divide people into categories of “us” and “them” has been called into question.  This foreign woman draws for Jesus a bigger picture of who God is!   And, the good news that is embodied in Jesus now becomes good news that has the world as its focus.  Jesus actually receives strength from this woman whose faith changes him as he is forced to live into a broader understanding of his mission and ministry.  The broadening of the heart and mind to include the “others” in life is one of the most difficult psychological maneuvers there is.  I find this to be a challenge we face each and every day.  Far too often, we want to build walls to keep the “others” out.  We work to exclude the “others” in our lives, whether it is within our family structures, our communities, or even within our nation.  And, we tend to project what we don’t like in ourselves on to the “other.”  We tend to see the “other” as less than us, not as fully human, sometimes not even as loved by God.  In today’s reading, it is a woman who is considered and labeled “other” who helps Jesus grasp that in God the barriers are broken down.  In God things are turned inside out and upside down.  In God, no human beings are labeled as “dogs,” only children.  All are considered God’s children. Scripture really does paint a very different picture of Jesus than the one we so often conjure up in our minds.  Today, we see Jesus in his full humanity, a person who, like us, has been shaped by systems into which even he was born.  But, we also get a glimpse of a Jesus who is vulnerable and open to being changed.  And, it is in his full humanity that we discover what divinity is all about.  It is in Jesus’ full humanity that we discover the God who loves and welcomes all!

First in a four week series on the Ten Commandments. Exodus 19 speaks of God establishing a covenant, a promise, with his people; his sons and daughters. That's relationship. Our identity is given to us freely by God.Then in Exodus 20 God gives us the Ten Commandments. Only after he has established the relationship does he call out our obedience. In other words, (coined by David Lose) "19 comes before 20"...

Dr. David Lose shares his thoughts on the power of story as a source of imagination and understanding in Part 6 of his series on Disruptive Change and the Exodus Today . This was recorded live at a recent www.crossgenconference.com in Estes Park, Colorado.

Dr. David Lose discusses the value of sharing what matters most to us via stories in Part 5 of 6 talks on Disruptive Change and the Exodus today. This was recorded live at a recent www.crossgenconference.com in Estes Park, Colorado.

Dr. David Lose discusses the power of language to both mirror and shape reality in Part 4 of 6 talks on Disruptive Change and the Exodus today. This was recorded live at a recent www.crossgenconference.com in Estes Park, Colorado.

Dr. David Lose discusses "playing with Scripture" and how the Cross+Gen movement - coming from the outside - can be a healthy gift to the future church in this, Part 2 of 6 talks on Disruptive Change and the Exodus today. This was recorded live at a recent www.crossgenconference.com in Estes Park, Colorado.

In the inaugural episode of this blog, Dr. David Lose begins a 6-part series on the power of story in shaping a positive future amid the tectonic shifts in the church and society. This podcast was recorded live at the www.crossgenconference.com in Estes Park, Colorado.

Jesus did not speak to them except in parables.  Yes, this was the form of teaching and communication Jesus used.  And, quite often, I think we misunderstand what parables are meant to do as we hear them.  You see, we are people who like to solve problems.  As we look at the parables of Jesus, we don’t have to go far to find interpretations of these stories that seem to suggest parables are often presented as problems to be solved—and that once solved they can offer us “instructions for living.”  However, as Pastor Nadia Bolz Weber suggests, “Parables are not neat little moralisms dressed in narrative. They are meant to be swallowed whole. Parables are living things meant to mess with our assumptions and subvert things we never even thought to question.”  And, as I have mentioned to you before, theologian, Eugene Peterson says, “Jesus’ parables are like explosive, narrative time bombs.  We hear them ticking away and we wonder about their meaning as they continue to go on ticking.  We think maybe we finally have got it, yet it stubbornly continues to tick away and make us ponder.  We walk away, but over the course of the next day or so it still continues to tick, tick, tick away.  And then, all of a sudden, the truth Jesus meant to convey strikes home and kaboom!   When this ticking bomb of a parable explodes we are surprised and almost overwhelmed with its implications.”  (David Lose, In the Meantime blog) Well, in today’s gospel reading Jesus is again teaching, using the story- telling device of parable to convey meaning.  Today, Jesus is describing the reality of the coming kingdom of God, the reign of God that is unexpectedly breaking in upon us, God’s presence in this present world. God’s dream for this world, is very counter to the reality we live as we go about our daily lives within the context of present culture.  Jesus knows we cannot really understand what the kingdom is like all at once.  Such understanding takes time.  So, Jesus begins teaching about the coming reign of God by using parables that are meant to be explosive.   His stories challenge the comfortable status quo and they challenge our thinking as they turn our thinking inside out and upside down. Today’s first parable about this unusual farmer who rather indiscriminately seems to sow seed upon the ground, does not really make much sense from a rational point of view.  This crazy farmer does not prepare the soil or tend it with fertilizer.  He does not even water the seeds or pull out weeds.  He just indiscriminately throws out the seed and waits to see what happens.  The emphasis in this parable seems to be placed upon who or what causes the growth to occur after the seed hits the soil because the farmer simply goes about his life of sleeping and rising night and day.  So, what is this really about?  Well, it might possibly be about the wonder of faith or the need to be ready to bring in the harvest.  Or, just maybe, it is about our complete inability to control or dictate the coming reign of God that unexpectedly breaks in upon us in various ways whether we or others believe or not.  I have to say this possibility leaves us unsettled and uncomfortable because it leaves us in a place where we are not in control.  It leaves us vulnerable and we don’t like it.  We don’t like it when we see decline in the church.  We want to build the church, build God’s kingdom, and restore it to what we remember of days gone by.  Yet, the truth is, God’s kingdom does come regardless of our efforts.  God’s kingdom cannot be manipulated by our attempts to control because God’s kingdom can only be received.  It is all gift.  In a very real sense, the kingdom or reign of God is something that comes from outside of ourselves and grabs hold of us whether we want it to or not.  It is all gift and not dependent upon us or anything we do.  It is God who builds the kingdom, it is Christ who builds the church. This is a difficult lesson for those of us in the church who are doers and problem solvers.  It is difficult for those of us who have such a hard time of letting go, for those of us with type A personalities who want to be in control and in charge of what is happening.  Yet, we are not responsible for making the church grow.  That is God’s work.  We are not responsible for making sure everybody “gets saved.”  That is God’s work and, quite frankly, God has already done that!  We are not responsible for making God’s kingdom a smashing success.  No.  Our job, our calling, is to simply plant the seeds and trust God to do the work of growing the kingdom.  We live in a world where people are so very afraid of losing control.  We have been taught and continue to teach others that, in order to succeed, we must have a plan with well-defined outcomes and strategies for achieving those outcomes.  We so desperately want to be able to measure our success.  However, this is so very contrary to God’s kingdom of grace.  The work of grace, mercy, compassion, peace and justice is the work that truly matters in life and it follows a totally different outline than the plans and strategies we try to impose.  All we are called to do is live God’s grace, live the gospel, and share the good news of God’s love for this broken, needy world. The next parable Jesus tells is about the mustard seed.  Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”  Now, if we really look at what Jesus is saying, we need to think about the mustard he is talking about.  You see, the thing about mustard seeds is that while some varieties were used as spice and others medicinally, in general they were considered at the very least pesky and often somewhat dangerous. Why?  Because wild mustard is incredibly hard to control, and once it takes root it can take over a whole planting area. That's why mustard would only occasionally be found in a garden in the ancient world; more likely you would find it taking over the side of an open hill or abandoned field. So, knowing this, pick your favorite garden-variety weed -- crabgrass, dandelion, wild onion -- that's pretty much what Jesus is comparing the kingdom of God to. Oh, and that part about the birds seeking refuge. Maybe it's meant as a comforting image -- birds finding shelter from the elements. Or maybe, it suggests that once mustard shrubs take root, all kinds of things happen including the sudden presence of "undesirables." Looked at this way, Jesus' parable is a little darker, even ominous. As John   Dominic Crossan puts it: The point, in other words, is not just that the mustard plant starts as a proverbially small seed and grows into a shrub of three or four feet, or even higher, it is that it tends to take over where it is not wanted, that it tends to get out of control, and that it tends to attract birds within cultivated areas where they are not particularly desired. And that, said Jesus, was what the Kingdom was like: not like the mighty cedar of Lebanon and not quite like a common weed, [more] like a pungent shrub with dangerous takeover properties. Something you would want in only small and carefully controlled doses -- if you could control it (The Historical Jesus, pp. 278-279).   Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is…..  May these parables mess with your assumptions and subvert things you never even thought to question.  May these parables stick in your mind like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off at an unexpected time and, when it finally explodes, may it overwhelm you with surprise and make you ever new. 

For those of you who either read her book or were able to come and hear Jacqueline Bussie in February, you will remember she talked about the many unspoken “rules” or “laws” Christians so often feel they must obey, rules that are often more harmful than helpful.  Bussie urges us to be Outlaw Christians and break some of those rules.  She describes Outlaw Christianity as a new, life-giving faith for those who ache for a more authentic relationship with God and other people by no longer having to hide their doubt, anger, grief, scars, or questions.  Jacqueline says that one of the unspoken laws people tend to follow is this:  Don’t doubt.  Doubt is faith’s opposite and is therefore sinful.  She suggests most people have grown up believing this very harmful rule.  Bussie then reminds us, as theologian Paul Tillich did, that doubt is a very necessary element in faith.  In fact, a living faith includes doubt and such doubt requires risk and courage.  Bussie, when talking about doubt being a good and necessary element in faith, writes: How can doubt, rooted as it is in uncertainty, be a good thing, or at the very least an acceptable thing?  For starters, we should acknowledge and name the doubt within us because, much like snot and passing gas, doubt is natural and human – that is to say, embarrassing and unwelcome but real and impossible to be healthy without, much as we want to pretend otherwise.  But more than just natural, doubt is also necessary, healthy, and good for our faith life.  Doubt functions as a robust spiritual virtue, rather than faith’s wimpy opposite. (Outlaw Christian, p.50) Well, in today’s gospel, we come face to face with doubt.   And, while doubt comes to the forefront in the story of Thomas, the truth is that all the disciples were experiencing doubt.  You see, it is the day of the resurrection and here we find the disciples sitting in a room behind locked doors because of fear, doubt, and quite likely more than a little shame.  They have blown it completely, they are hiding in fear, and they are doubting everything their master had said.  And, what I find so fascinating is that, in the gospel of John, when Jesus appears to his disciples after the resurrection, nobody initially recognizes him.  Notice in the beginning of today’s reading, the disciples do not recognize him until Jesus shows them his hands and side.  They all doubted him!  They doubted it was Jesus!  It is only after Jesus shows them his hands and side that the disciples rejoice because they have seen the Lord.  While the other disciples also have experienced doubt, for some strange reason, only Thomas gets labeled “doubter.”  Far too often we judge Thomas because of his doubt.  We need to cut him some slack and give him a break.  In Thomas we find the yearning of one who wants to see with his eyes and touch with his hands that of which he has been told.  He has real questions, real concerns, and a desire for a real encounter with the risen Lord.  I think the story of Thomas captures our hearts and minds because we, too, were absent to the Resurrection experience two thousand years ago.  When faced with the mystery of the Resurrection, the story of Thomas names that part in each of us that wants to scream out, “Show me!” Thomas has just had a very harsh encounter with reality.  Reality had hit hard in the form of a cross when his dear friend had been crucified.  And, when he fled that horrible scene, not only had Jesus died, Thomas’ hopes and dreams had also died.  Jesus’ crucifixion had destroyed his hopes for the future and very poignantly reminded him that there is an end.  And, it is the same for us.  When the harsh realities of life hit us – whether it be the death of a family member, the loss of a job, an unexpected illness, a broken relationship, or whatever – reality deeply cuts into our hopes, our dreams, the very fabric of our relationships, and we are reminded that there is an end.  There is an end over which we have no control as we feel we have been taken captive by an extremely cruel conqueror.  And, we usually experience doubt! The reality that sliced into his hopes and dreams left Thomas emotionally bleeding and broken.  As he again joins the community of disciples, within the context of those who proclaim Jesus is alive, Thomas lays bare his doubt.  He is very honest about his doubt as he says, “Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe.”  In the depth of his despair Thomas articulates his doubt, and it is in that place where he is now confronted with the risen Christ.  It is in that place of despair that Thomas is greeted by the risen Lord whose presence exudes forgiveness and grace as he hears the words, “Peace be with you.”  In that moment, Thomas knows he is in the presence of God and he believes.  Theologian, David Lose, describes the experience of Thomas in this way: When Thomas is greeted by the forgiveness and grace embodied in the words, “Peace be with you,” he instantly believes and makes the great confession of John’s gospel: “My Lord and my God!”  In a heartbeat Thomas knows that he is in the presence of God, has been saved and redeemed by that God, and that he will never be the same again.  Thomas lays bare his doubt which takes him to this encounter with the grace of God, embodied and enfleshed in the risen Lord Jesus.  Doubt drives him to question and it takes him to this place where he is encountered by the risen Lord and his entire reality is changed.  Wow!!  Did you get that?  Reality itself has changed.  The despairing Thomas does not escape from the real world and there is not a break from the tangible reality of the world.  No.  But, there is something very different, something very, very new.  God’s grace and God’s kingdom have invaded the real world, transformed it and nothing will ever be the same again.  I think Thomas experiences Easter in the way many of us begin to experience it.  Thomas finally gets Easter when he brings forth his questions. He wants to see and touch. He wants tangible proof and needs his own encounter before he can trust the story.  It is doubt that compels Thomas to ask the questions and it is doubt that takes him to the place where he is looking for what is really real and what truly matters.  You see, without doubt, our faith is shallow and rootless.  We fail to go down deep.  And, quite honestly, if we do not express doubts and have only certainty, it closes us off to the newness that we so long for.  Doubt is a sign of a healthy and deep-rooted faith, though most of us are taught to believe the opposite.  And, when doubt takes us to the deeper places in faith our reality changes.  We are transformed and our perspective on all of life changes. The story of Thomas and doubt is one of the most compelling, believable, realistic stories in the Bible because it is our story.  Doubt is an element of faith because it gives birth to the questions that arise which take us to the deeper places in life.  So, be honest about your doubt.  Doubt functions as a robust spiritual virtue, rather than faith’s wimpy opposite.  In fact, doubt and the questions that arise are the heartbeat of our faith!   They enable us to be open to the newness of the risen Christ.   And, the risen Christ is always breaking into our doubt and the questions we ask, transforming our lives and making us new.  Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

John explores what words we might use to describe what Jesus does when he heals the leper, and what those words teach us about the nature and character of God. (using David Lose’s posting on Working Preacher from 2012) He then invites people to explore what this story says to their understanding of God

It has begun.  And, no, I am not talking about Advent.  I am talking about the non-stop screenings of those syrupy, sentimental Christmas movies on the Hallmark channel.  I am talking about the Disney portrayals of Happy Holidays where there is joy and happiness forever after.  I am talking about Madison Avenue advertisers telling us what Christmas should look like and what we need to have and do to make this an absolutely perfect Christmas.  I am talking about the TV specials and bill boards and radio ads that give us a distorted understanding of Christmas and a bogus version of what Christmas is all about.  I am talking about all the ways media and culture place before us an idealized version of Christmas.  We see depicted in all of these settings ideal relationships, ideal children, ideal homes and holiday gatherings, idyllic Christmas dinners where all is bliss and where everyone is all smiles and all is perfection.  And, as we look at all of this, I am talking about our tendency to seek out and try to pursue such ideals only to discover that our lives and our experiences never quite measure up!     When talking about this search for the idyllic, theologian David Lose writes: I suspect our longing for ideals is rooted in the desire to improve, to be always prepared to see potential, a vision for how something could be better. But this admirable, and no doubt evolutionarily productive trait can easily turn aspiration into envy and devolve from a determination to improve to grasping for an ideal that, no matter how unrealistic, nevertheless undermines the reality with which we’ve been blessed. And that, I think, is the greatest danger of idealized pictures – whether painted by Rockwell, created by Madison Avenue advertisers, or concocted in our own imaginations: they lead us to see what we have – and often who we are – as insufficient, unworthy, unimportant. So, on this first Sunday of Advent, as we look at our gospel reading from Mark, I think we are given an opportunity to begin this season in a different, maybe even healthier way.  We are called back to reality as it is. Initially, the 13th chapter of the gospel of Mark is frightening and chilling to read.  And, while it has sometimes been interpreted as a prediction of the future to frighten future generations, we must look at the historical context and think about what was happening when it was written.  Mark 13 is NOT a prediction about the future.  This writing from Mark follows a long tradition of apocalyptic literature and it is all about providing comforting words to people as they faced their present life and present experience.  Mark’s words describe what his readers had already seen their brothers and sisters in Christ experience.  Written around 70 CE, Mark is writing to a community of people who were facing horrific situations. Christians were being dragged before local authorities, sometimes by members of their own family.  They lived in fear.  War was on the horizon and, in fact, already happening as they experienced the Jewish Revolt of 66-70 CE, a war that brought the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.  For these early Christians, it felt as if the world had ended, and in some very real ways, it had ended. You see, when people are experiencing fear and going through great pain, you’ve got to acknowledge that pain, that grief, the seriousness of the obstacles that stand before you and not bury it or cover it up by simply saying, “Don’t panic, everything will be ok.”  So, Mark tells these early Christians: Yes, there is serious pain in the world, in your community. There are wars and rumors of wars. There's strife within families, and even within the family of faith, those called to be one in Christ. And God's name is profaned, an abomination to those for whom God's name is the name of one who feeds the hungry, lifts up the lowly, and frees the prisoner.  So, when you see these horrible things happening, don't think it's a sign that the kingdom of God Jesus promised is late in coming or has been derailed.  We don't know the day or hour, but we know that God is faithful, and Jesus' resurrection from the dead is a sign to us as it was to Mary Magdalene, Simon Peter and our own wounded communities: Jesus is coming, and God's kingdom, inaugurated with Jesus' ministry, is being revealed and finding fulfillment. (Sarah Dylan)   Friends, this same word is Good News for us. There is serious pain in our world.  There are wars and rumors of wars.  There is strife within our families and even the family of faith.  God’s name is regularly profaned and used as a political prop to assert power over the powerless — even by those who claim to be Christian as they twist what it means to be a follower of Christ by enforcing policies that take away food from the hungry, push the lowly even further down, and imprison people instead of setting people free.  But, we know something that they don't seem to realize: the person we call Lord is none other than Jesus of Nazareth, who taught and healed, who welcomed the outcast and broke bread with anyone willing to eat with him. It's Jesus, whose way of life and manner of death underscored what his words taught:  love your enemies.  He truly lived this every day of his life and we are also called to live it every day of our lives.  When we know Jesus, the Jesus of the gospels, we know that God is love, and love drives out all fear.   The writer of Mark’s gospel is not pointing us to a future apocalyptic event, but rather a very present one in which Christ’s death and resurrection change absolutely everything we know.  For once and for all, in Christ’s death and resurrection, Jesus suffers all that the world and empire and death have to throw at him…and is raised to new life and nothing will ever be the same again!  And, that includes our present lives and our present situations. So, get ready!  Jesus is here and Jesus is coming!  Do not be afraid!  Stay awake and be alert!  God comes to us now and is still entering into our lives in ways that align with God’s coming in the vulnerability of a baby in a manger and a man dying on a cross.  God comes to us now as we embrace all those we consider “other.”  God comes to us now as we collect food for the hungry in the apartments across the street.  God comes to us now as we collect warm clothing for the people at Loaves & Fishes.  God comes to us now as we work to offer a hope and future to these wonderful young people from Samaritas who are joining us today.  God comes to us now, as we are, in our vulnerability, in our messed-up family lives, in our deep brokenness, in our imperfections, telling us we are deeply loved as we are.  We do not need to seek the ideal.  We do not need to work so hard to measure up.  In the person of Jesus, God is pulling back the curtain of false hopes and perfect ideals in order to reveal a very present reality, the reality about God’s commitment to enter into and redeem our lives and world just as they are.  Yes, life is messy and there is so much that is not right in this world.  But, newness is on the way, a newness we can trust.  So, as we begin this Advent, stay awake and be aware of the many ways Christ appears in the present.  Stay alert to see where Christ arrives, breaking through time and space to be present in our lives and the lives of others. Christ is arriving now, in this present moment, choosing to meet us in our messed-up-ness, meeting us as we are, loving us as we are and redeeming us as we are, right here and right now, right before our very eyes.

For those of you familiar with William Shakespeare’s work you will remember that one of the lines from his play The Tempest is “Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.”  Over time, that line has morphed into the phrase, “Politics makes strange bedfellows.”  Now, while this might be applicable to our time, it has been true of time immemorial.  In fact, we find that is exactly what is happening in today’s gospel reading as the Pharisees and Herodians team up to trick and trap Jesus. For the past few weeks, we have been journeying with Jesus through the last week of his life, a week that has been intense to say the least.  Just a few days before today’s confrontation, Jesus had entered Jerusalem where he was greeted by throngs of people shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”  Then there was that incident where he overthrew the tables of the Temple money-changers.  Jesus has spent the week challenging both the political and religious powers that be.  He has been doggedly confronted by the religious leaders who are questioning the authority behind his actions.  And, he has called into question the religious leaders’ authority by telling threatening, confrontational parables.  So, today, we discover the Herodians and the Pharisees team up to trap the itinerant, rabblerousing rabbi known as Jesus.  To understand what is happening in this story, we must better understand these two groups of people.  The Herodians, on the one hand, saw themselves as having power derived from the Romans.  As their name suggests, they were allied with Herod Antipas, whom Roman authorities had named king of the Jews.  And, not surprisingly, the Herodians supported paying tax to Caesar.  The Pharisees, on the other hand, were committed to every detail of Jewish law.  They aligned themselves more closely with the occupied and oppressed commoners, and they opposed paying tax to Caesar for religious reasons.  Their opposition to paying this tax was based less on the fact of occupation and more on the special coin that had to be used to pay this particular tax.  You see, this coin – a denarius, worth a day’s wage – carried the inscription or likeness of Tiberius Caesar.  And, the Romans considered Tiberius Caesar the divine son of Augustus.  This inscription or likeness was overtly offensive to the religious leaders, and within Jesus’ community the inscription spoke both of oppression and of blasphemy.  Anyway, these two oppositional groups of people invoke a temporary truce as they try to trick Jesus, believing they have him cornered.  They present Jesus with a question that poses a political conundrum, and they await a political response.  They ask Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?”  By asking this question, they know that if Jesus declares it lawful, he might acquit himself with the Roman authorities, but the crowd of followers would turn against him because it would scandalize the religious establishment.  And, if he rules against it, he positions himself against Rome, a position nobody in their right mind would willingly seek.  Brilliantly, Jesus responds by widening the question so that it has little to do with politics.  He quickly procures a coin and asks, “Whose head is this and whose title?”  Thinking they finally have Jesus ensnared, they respond by saying, “The Emperor’s.” Now, we need to delve more deeply into what is really happening here.  As professor, David Lose, describes this incident, he writes:  There’s more going on here than meets the eye, as along with that image is an engraved confession of Caesar’s divinity, which means that any Jew [even] holding the coin is breaking the first two of the commandments.  All of which leads to Jesus’ closing line, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s.”  And with this one sentence, Jesus does not simply evade their trap or confound their plans, but issues a challenge to his hearers that reverberates through the ages into our sanctuaries.   You see, a better translation of verse 20 in today’s reading would be, “Whose likeness is this, and what title?”  So, when the good Jewish religious leaders hear these words, their minds will automatically think back to their Jewish scriptures and the book of Genesis.  Knowing their Hebrew Bible very well, they will automatically reference God’s pronouncement and promise in Genesis, chapter one, where we read: Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness;”           Jesus’s response calls us to think about the way in which we are called to live.  His words are powerful words for the Herodians, the Pharisees and for us.  You see, what Jesus is really reminding us of is that we are made in the image and likeness of God.  We are not gods, but we bear God’s likeness and we are to act as God acts regarding the way we live in relationship to others and the way we live as good stewards of all we have been given.  We are to bear the same characteristics God shows to us as we live in relationship to God, to others and to creation.  Jesus is saying that we are called to serve as God’s agents and God’s co-workers, not as an act of power but rather as an act of stewardship, as we work to extend the abundant life God wishes for all. (David Lose)           Jesus is calling us to remember our identity.  As we go through our daily lives, making decisions and interacting with all kinds of people, it is often easy to forget in whose likeness we are made.  God is always calling us back, to turn again to him and remember that our primary identity is to live as God’s children, live as God’s good stewards of all that we have been given, and act like the God we see in Jesus.  And, while Caesar or Empire will get many of our coins, the coin of the realm of our flesh and blood is the image of God.  Every single life is marked with that inscription, an icon of the One who is its source and destination, as we embody the kingdom of God.  While our currency bears the image of Empire, baptism is the watermark of our true currency, the inspiration for all the rendering we do and for the many ways in which we live as God’s stewards of all that we have been given.            So, as we reflect upon the question the Herodians and Pharisees pose to Jesus, the point really is not about paying taxes or not paying taxes.   In fact, paying your taxes is simple.  However repugnant, you hold your nose and write a check.  Rendering relative honor to that subordinate Caesar is the easy part, and perhaps even necessary.  After all, civilization is expensive, and taxes pay the tab.  (John Clendenin)         The point of this Jesus story is that we are called to live remembering that each one of us has been made in the likeness of God. God loves you. God loves you so much that God keeps your picture in the divine wallet and on the heavenly refrigerator. Jesus did not care about the tax – his real concern is that you live into the image and likeness of the God who lovingly created you.  This is the best word we can receive and it is the best word you can share with others.

Fear!  Fear is a vital response to physical and emotional danger.   And, if we didn't feel it, we couldn't protect ourselves from legitimate threats. But often we fear situations that are far from life-or-death, and thus hang back for no good reason.  Sometimes, fear can actually be paralyzing and it can keep us from living into the fullness of life, living into life that truly matters.   Yet, exposing ourselves to our personal demons by facing our fears is the best way to move through them and past them.  In today's gospel, we hear a story that not only addresses the fear that can literally overpower us, but we also hear a story of the even greater power of promise, telling us of a loving presence that will never let us go. At last, Jesus has finally been able to send the crowds away.  He has convinced his disciples to get in a boat and cross the lake ahead of him. Finally, he has found time to retreat and spend some time in prayer.  As we look at today's gospel reading, Jesus is not a superhero who has retreated to his bat cave. He is not a ghost out to haunt the already terrified. He is a man. Fully God, fully human. He is the Son of God, though those around him don't yet recognize him. His ship of faith is being battered by the rejection of his hometown folks and the beheading of his cousin John the Baptist by Herod. He knows his time is coming. Crowds of needy people have been constantly pressing in on him.  And, he needs some time alone. Jesus is praying, perhaps lifting up each of his fears and stuggles to God and exchanging them for faith, allowing the comfort and healing and power of God to fill his inner life, his heart, mind, emotions, and will. After all, this is what the Jewish scriptures tell us to do, to surrender all our lesser fears to our fear of the Lord, which means our reverence for God, for who God is and what God can do.  And, as Jesus then looks up and squints at the horizon he sees the disciples' little boat bobbing side to side, back and forth, up and down. The disciples have spent nearly the whole night struggling to get across that blasted lake before Jesus shows up near daybreak.  The Sea of Galilee is not a massive body of water, never more than seven miles across when traveling east-west.  Yet, they've not been able to traverse it, for the storm has “battered” or “thrashed” their boat.  And, as for the churning sea?  In their worldview, it represents chaos and danger.  Then, they think they see a ghost.  Fear erupts because they anticipate how the story will probably end.  All night they have been threatened by the prospect that this chaos might devour them.  They saw themselves as disciples left to die at the mercy of more powerful forces. Then, they realize this seeming “ghost” is Jesus, striding over the watery chaos.  And, astoundingly, Peter wants to step out there on that water.  Peter steps out of the boat and enters the tumult.  And, Peter flounders.  He flounders because he grows afraid.  Quite frankly, that fear is justified.  The storm is still powerfully raging and it is so intense it could sink the boat, let alone drown a single person.  He has perfectly good reason to be afraid. And, so do we.  There are multiple reasons each one of us might face fear.  Maybe you fear loneliness after loss.  Or, fear losing stability as you face a fragile relationship.  Or, fear aging and all the issues that come with growing old.  Or, maybe fear the return of an illness, or the progression of present illness.  Or, maybe you fear for your kids and what they are experiencing or will experience.  Or, you fear facing a new chapter in life, or making a major life-changing decision.  Or, you fear the future of our congregation, or the direction of our country, or global security….   You name it!  There are multiple situations and reasons in our individual, congregational and communal lives that make us afraid.  And that fear can be paralyzing, debilitating, and make it difficult for us to move forward or even have any sense of confidence.  In fact, as professor David Lose says, “Fear is one of the primary things that robs the children of God of the abundant life God intends for us.”  Well, in response to Peter's fear, Jesus doesn't simply urge Peter to buck up, be a man, be courageous, let go of his fear and focus on him.  Instead, when Peter begins to sink, Jesus literally catches him!  He grabs hold of Peter!  Jesus grabs him and saves him from drowning.  He grabs him and restores him to his vocation as a disciple.  And, guess what?  He does the same with us.  Jesus will not, he absolutely will never, let us go.  Jesus is never going to give up on us, no matter what we do!  The God we know is truly THE LOVE THAT WILL NEVER LET US GO!  In the depth of our fear, Jesus grabs us, holds on to us when we falter and restores us to where we can again be of service to him.  Today's gospel, good news word to us is a message that is not only about our fear.  It is a message that is the heart of the gospel message.  It is the gospel good news of grace which proclaims that God will never give up on us, that God is with us and for us, that God – in the end – will do what we cannot do for ourselves and save us.  This is a message that enables us to cope with life and with our fear because it is a message that enables us to transcend that fear.  We may not be able to defeat it, but we can face it, stand in the swirling disorder and chaos, and do what needs to be done even when we are afraid.  And, quite frankly, this is the nature of what it means to live out an active life of faith, to be willing to throw oneself into a disorderly world and expect to encounter Jesus there.  I love what William Willimon says about this passage.  He writes: If Peter had not ventured forth, had not obeyed the call to walk on the water, then Peter would never have had this great opportunity for recognition of Jesus and rescue by Jesus.  I wonder if too many of us are merely splashing about in the safe shallows and therefore have too few opportunities to test and deepen our faith.  The story today implies if you want to be close to Jesus, you have to venture forth out on the sea and [discover] his promises through trusting his promises, through risk and venture. Getting out of the boat with Jesus and going to places where Jesus goes is the most risky, most exciting, and most fulfilling way to live life to the fullest, life that truly matters, life that is abundant.  Today's gospel reading invites us to trust God's promises and do just that.

​​In a world where the church seems to have its message drowned out by so many louder cultural voices, what does it even mean for the Gospel to be Good News anymore? Can the church really make the front page of the newspaper or the top of the ratings charts anymore? We'll travel high and low - from the front page of the Philadelphia Inquirer to the local pub with Pastor Keith Anderson, and finally to the Lutheran Seminary in Philadelphia with Dr. David Lose to unmask the answer. Where are people making meaning in today's world...and how can the church be at the forefront?

If the world has changed under our feet, how do we begin to understand this Brave New World that we are living in? Until we can unpack the way the world has changed, and how it intersects with central questions of faith, life, and meaning we just can’t begin to do meaningful ministry in today’s world. Join us this week as David Lose unpacks the data behind these massive cultural shifts and helps us to reframe how we see the current landscape – and begin to explore what this might mean for where we go from here.

Some allege that a person may relinquish his salvation through acts of blatant, persistent sin. For evidence, they sometimes point to the Old Testament example of King David when he prayed, in Psalm 51:11, “Do not take your Holy Spirit from me.” Does this reveal that David’s eternal salvation was in jeopardy? Join Pastor Thomas Overmiller to discover that while David's salvation was not in jeopardy, something else was.

Pentecost 9This recording is an abridged version of the 10:00 am service from Sunday July 17, 2016.    (Download Podcast)The readings are from the NSRV (New Revised Standard Version) Bible. You can read the passages online at: https://www.biblegateway.com/versions/New-Revised-Standard-Version-NRSV-Bible/.[00:00:55]  First Reading - Amos 8:1-12[00:03:06]  Second Reading - Colossians 1:15-28[00:06:01]  Gospel Reading - Luke 10:38-42[00:07:04]  Sermon - The Rev. Canon Maureen Crerar[00:21:06]  Blessing and DismissalWith Thanks and credit for sermon ideas: Elizabeth Johnson, The Working Preacher, 2009; Thomas Long, Mary and Martha; David Lose, In the Meantime, Luke 10, 2016,  as well as Baptism. 2013Today's bulletin can be found here.This podcast is also available on iTunes.www.sttimothy-edm.ca

(Apologies that the recording of this week's sermon has some mic issues up till about 1:45 - hang in there!.) "...if we within Christian community draw lines between ourselves and others, as Biblical scholar David Lose writes, we're going to keep finding God on the other side." Brendan O'Sullivan-Hale preaches on the twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost (October 23, 2016). Readings: Jeremiah 14:7-10, 19-22; Psalm 84:1-6; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18; Luke 18:9-14. Image: Stephanie Harris.