04-07-2024 Life After Easter

Thomas J Parlette
“Life after Easter”
Acts 4: 32-35
4/7/24
          In these post-COVID days, there has been a great deal written about finding ways to entice people back to church. So, here’s a question for you: If you were called upon to design a bumper-sticker slogan to get people to take a good look at coming to this church, what would you write?
          A few years back, the United Church of Christ came out with a marketing campaign that many of their churches used, built around the slogan, “God is still speaking.” I like that. It’s short, catchy, easy to remember - and I think it’s Oh so true.
          For many years, the United Methodist Church got a lot of mileage out of their slogan – “Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors.” I like that one too.
          There was a Baptist group a while back that tried “Be kind, be merry, be Baptist.” Good – but the word “merry” might not be the first one to pop in your mind when it comes to Baptists – but, it’s worth a try I suppose.
          You could also go with the old standby – “CH, blank, blank, CH: What’s missing UR.” Well besides the fact that lots of people have heard that one for a long time, it really doesn’t tell a prospective churchgoer anything about your church – it just uses the guilt angle. (1)
          Our own denomination – the PCUSA – doesn’t really have a slogan. The closest thing might be “Reformed and always reforming”, although that’s more a slogan for the Protestant Reformation in general, rather than the Presbyterian Church in particular.
          We might look to today’s scripture passage from Acts for a worthwhile slogan, right there in verse 33, which says, “Great grace was upon them all.” It’s kinda catchy – but I’m not sure how well it would work, because it uses a loaded theological term in there. Grace.
          Grace is one of those words we say a lot in church, but it is perhaps not widely known beyond our own doors. There are lots of meanings of the English word “grace.” It may suggest a graceful ballet dancer, effortlessly gliding across the floor. The term “social graces” might pop into your head. Or maybe you think of the “grace period” you might get before being assessed a late fee or have to begin paying off a loan. All good things.
          Our English word “grace” comes from the Latin “gratia”, which means “something pleasing.” In classical Greek and Roman mythology, there are three sister-goddesses, known as “the three graces.” They’re identified with charm, beauty, and creativity. Again, all good.
          The dictionary gives another meaning – favor. Now that gets us closer to the theological meaning of grace. If parents have a favored son or daughter – it usually means that they put that child on a pedestal. It’s the proverbial child-who-can-do-no-wrong.
          So too with the grace of God. God’s favored Son, of course, is Jesus, who is without sin – meaning he does no wrong. But God doesn’t put Jesus on a pedestal. Instead, Jesus ends up on a cross. The beneficiary of God’s favor that dreadful day is not actually God’s Son Jesus, but us. We are God’s favored one because we are the beneficiaries of God’s grace.
          In our passage from Acts for today, or we could call it Luke, Part 2, we get a glimpse of what life was like in the early Christian community after that first Easter.
          I wonder how many of you recall the opening scenes from the 1970’s sitcom “All in the Family.” As the show opened, the viewer was in a car driving slowly through a neighborhood of neat, bungalow houses. In the background, a man and woman, Archie and Edith Bunker, belt a song around an upright piano – “Boy, the way Glenn Miller played. Songs that made the hot parade. Guys like us we had it made. Those were the days!” That theme song set the stage for the show, in which Archie Bunker struggled with all the changes in modern society, while longing for a world in which things were clearer, simpler and easier to understand – the good old days, as they say. (2)
          There is a bit of that kind of nostalgia at play in this passage, as Luke recalls that the Christian community were of “one heart and soul and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common.”
          I remember a time when I was leading a bible study on Acts, and when we came to this passage, a couple of people got pretty irate, because they thought this passage made it sound like Christianity was like communism, or at the very least socialism. And they stormed out, saying, “That’s not the Bible I know.”
          I admit, they had a good point – it does sound that way – especially when we read the NRSV.
          But in other translations, like the New International Version or the New American Standard Bible, the aspect of sharing is what is emphasized. The notion of “no private property allowed”, changes into the early Christian community willing to share their individual resources to provide for those in need.
          That isn’t communism or socialism – it’s showing love for your neighbor, which is exactly what Jesus told us to do. So it’s reasonable to conclude that the early church aspired to the practice of generously sharing resources rather than a hard and fast communal ownership of property.
          This portrayal of life after Easter shows the Christian community doing their best to live out their resurrection hope. The grace that has been extended to them through Jesus death and resurrection allows them to approach others with a sense of grace – and they begin with those closest to them, their fellow believers.
          Our human nature tells us that people ought to get what they deserve – “if you do the crime, you do the time” sort of thinking. That’s the way we think life works. The Franciscan theologian Richard Rohr calls this approach the “economy of merit.” (3) Those who have merit can expect good things in life, and those who don’t can expect punishment. That’s only fair right?
But life after Easter can be lived a different way, with a different attitude. After Easter, we can make a switch from the economy of merit to the economy of grace.
Granted, that switch does not come naturally, it’s a hard thing to do – especially for those of those who tend to be our own harshest critics. We don’t need people judging us or telling us we’re bad people – we’re already convinced of that. At times we are so busy judging ourselves, it can be impossible to extend grace to others.
Here’s how Richard Rohr describes the revolutionary power of grace:
“It is God’s magnificent jailbreak from our self-made prisons, the only way that God’s economy can triumph over our strongly internalized merit badge system. Grace is the secret, undeserved key, by which God sets us free.” (4)
Living the way Luke portrays these early disciples was a radical witness and a challenge to the society of that time. After Easter, they had a new perspective on the meaning and purpose of worldly possessions: in the light of the resurrection life “things” were for meeting needs. Need trumped greed. Grace trumped merit.
The image of a community so at one in heart and mind that not even physical possessions would be spared in the face of need, shows us an absurd picture of a people whom many might accuse of being naïve, maybe communist, or even socialist, or just plain dumb with poor judgment. But that is how resurrection words and lives will always look to a world that lives in fear, isolation and individualism.
We don’t really have a good analogy for resurrection in our life experience. We preachers point to examples like the return of spring, or butterflies emerging from the cocoons, or baby chicks that crack open their shells to explain resurrection and new life.
But today, we have a different image to draw upon, from a people willing to live as a resurrection community, displaying the grace they have received through Jesus death and resurrection. We would do well to risk becoming a resurrection community, as well. I think the poet Wendell Berry got it right in his “Mad Farmer’s Manifesto”:
So, friends, every day do something
That won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the World. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
The flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all who cannot
Understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
Has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers…
Practice resurrection. (5)
That is life after Easter. We are called to practice resurrection.
We are called to live out the grace we have received, displaying our unity as Christians, and demonstrating generosity to those in need.
So, as we gather at the table with our risen Lord – let us practice resurrection.
May God be praised. Amen.

1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
2. Cynthia M. Campbell, Feasting on the Word, Year B, vol.2, Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p382.
3. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
4. Ibid…
5. Andre Resner, Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2, Westminster John Knox Press, p393.

03-31-2024 An Unscheduled Stop - Easter Sunday

Thomas J Parlette
“An Unscheduled Stop”
John 20: 1-18
3/31/24, Easter
          I recently heard about something new, at least to me. The major airlines, like Delta, American, United and Southwest among others are up in arms about an increase in what is called skiplagging passengers. The fine print of a passenger’s ticket forbids the practice. The airlines are threatening to impose a lifetime ban on travelers who get caught skiplagging flights. They also warn that they’ll take away the culprit’s frequent flier miles. In some cases, they rage about taking the crafty customer to court.
          So what is skiplagging anyway? It’s a sneaky way to travel to your real destination while pretending you’re going somewhere else. It’s called hidden city ticketing. Let’s say you want to travel from Seattle to Phoenix. Instead of buying an expensive nonstop flight to Phoenix, you buy a one-stop trip to Oklahoma City, or Dallas or New Orleans – but the one stop is in Phoenix. Since Phoenix is where you really want to go – you get off. You make sure you have no checked bags and away you go. You paid for the flight, and it’s cheaper for some crazy reason than buying a nonstop flight that ends in Phoenix.
          Naturally, an online search will bring up lots of websites that will help passengers find skiplagging opportunities that can save them anywhere from 20 dollars to 100 dollars. (1)
          So maybe you learned a little something new – I sure did.
          In the gospel reading for today, there’s also some traveling going on. There’s definitely a traveler – Jesus. And he’s not where he’s supposed to be, at least not where everyone thought he was going to be. Everyone – his disciples, the religious leaders, the Roman government and the guards at the tomb – are up in arms. The tombstone is rolled away, and Jesus is not where he was supposed to be.
          Jesus is on the move, and his final destination is eternal glory at the right hand of God.
          But first, Jesus skiplags and stops over to visit some friends.
          Of course, unlike true skiplaggers, he will ultimately continue on to his final destination. So, Jesus’ experience is more like an extended transition or pass-through – and unscheduled stop, if you will. Call it a multi-destination trip or an extended stay. Jesus had about 50 days left on his earthly visa, and come Pentecost, he will be taking off on the final leg of his remarkable journey among us mortals.
          So, why has Jesus decided to make this unscheduled stop for a few weeks with his followers?
          Let’s set the scene of what happened on Easter morning. Peter and John race to the tomb after getting word from Mary Magdalene that the body was gone. John beats Peter to the tomb, but he doesn’t go in. Peter arrives, and he goes in. Mary was right! Jesus is gone. John went inside, and he saw and believed, that is he now knew with certainty that Mary was right, she wasn’t just being hysterical. The Bible says, “Then the disciples returned to their homes.”
          A bit hard to believe. They just went home? Not a big deal, I guess. Perhaps they assumed that graverobbers or the Roman guards had made off with the body – happened all the time. It was out of their control. Jesus was dead anyway. The whole city was abuzz about it. Remember what Cleopas, one of the two disciples walking toward Emmaus, said to Jesus, whom they didn’t recognize at the time: “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know these things that have taken place?” Everyone knew what had happened, and they also knew that reports were circulating that something had happened to Jesus’ body.
          You can almost hear Cleopas breathlessly tell the story: “Some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and they did not find the body, they came back and told us they had seen a vision of angels who said that Jesus was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see Jesus.”
          In Luke’s account of the resurrection, the disciples have gathered in Jerusalem, along with the companions, as well as the two men Jesus encountered on the road to Emmaus. Suddenly Jesus popped unannounced into the midst, saying “Peace be with you.” Of course, they were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. They thought that Jesus was dead, yet here he was asking them for something to eat. They fumbled around, found some broiled fish and they ghost ate in their presence.
          Why did Jesus do this? Why scare his followers with surprise pop-in visit? Why doesn’t Jesus just fly off to his ticketed destination, instead of getting off early to visit his friends and followers?
          What is striking about the post-resurrection events is Jesus’ insistence – and persistence – in dispelling the notion that he was a figment of their imaginations. He is so adamant about this that he’s a little over the top. He goes to great lengths to prove that he is not an apparition, or a ghost. He quickly establishes the physicality of his presence. “Look at my hands and my feet.” He said to them. “see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost doesn’t have flesh and bones as you see I have.” At this point he shows them his hands and his feet, wounds and all.
          Years later, the apostle Paul and all the Gospel writers – especially John – would adamantly insist that the Jesus they knew was a real human being, a person of flesh and blood, who ate and drank with them, who laughed and cried with them, who got tired and angry sometimes and even experienced temptation, although he never succumbed to it.
          For example, the writer of First John begins his first letter with unequivocal assertion: “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life – this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it.” Then he adds, “By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God.”
          So, Jesus has a ticket for heaven, but he gets off early in Jerusalem to see friends. Why? Here’s why – to demonstrate that his post-resurrection body was a body of flesh and blood. He was no ghost, He was the real deal, fully human and risen from the dead.
          From the time of Jesus’ resurrection to his ascension into heaven, approximately 50 days passed. During this time, Jesus had conversations with hundreds of people. The first person he saw was a woman – Mary Magdalene. He also saw Mary the mother of James, Salome, Joanna, Peter and the two men on the road to Emmaus. Later, Jesus confronts Thomas and shows the doubting disciple the stigmata – the scars on his hands and feet and the gash in his side. Whereupon Thomas pretty much tells the Lord, “I get it, I get it, too much information, I believe!
          Later, Jesus would have breakfast with seven disciples on the Sea of Galilee. There is no record that Jesus had a reunion with his mother – but it’s hard to believe that he wouldn’t have sought her out. Paul tells us that Jesus appeared to more than 500 hundred brothers and sisters at one time.
         The question is – “Why are these appearances and his real physical presence important?”
          Some of the answers are due to what was going on in the world of idea in the ancient Greco-Roman era. Then, too, we must consider theological answers as well. Finally, there’s the matter of what Jesus’ humanity means to us, and all people of every day and age.
          First, let’s consider the ancient world. In what’s known as the Hellenistic culture of Jesus day, Plato was the star in the philosophical universe of ideas and the cosmos. One of his assertions was, to put it simply, that matter was bad, if not downright evil. It was absurd in Plato’s view, to think that what was divine and therefore good would become matter or flesh. For him, the Incarnation was laughable. And, so was the Crucifixion. The apostle Paul acknowledges as much when he writes that the divine crucified was “foolishness to the Gentiles.” So false teachers in the early church – nurtured on Greek philosophy – suggested that Jesus only appeared to be human. He wasn’t really human. It was against that sort of teaching that Paul and John both reacted so strongly against and explains why the Bible mentions Jesus eating and drinking like a normal hungry and thirsty person.
          Next, let’s consider theology. The Bible says that “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.” Jesus is described as the Agnus Dei – the lamb of God. It was a metaphor that every Jew in Jesus’ day understood. If there was to be any atonement for a person’s sins, or the sins of the world for that matter, there will be a ram in the thicket or a sacrificial lamb for the altar. In essence, the Bible insists that there will be blood involved. The Christ must be human, as Saint Anselm of Canterbury would later explain in his book Cur Deu Homo.
          And finally, what does it mean for us and the world. It means, quite simply, Jesus is our brother. The Bible stresses that Jesus was one of us. The writer of Hebrews explains: Jesus “had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect… Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.” The author continues: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.” The importance of this is what we can pray to Jesus because, as a national ad campaign suggest, “He Gets Us.”
          Sam Allberry, canon theologian with the Anglican Church in North America and a senior fellow at the Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics, puts it this way: “What we see in the Christian gospel is that Jesus didn’t just appear as a man out of thin air; Jesus didn’t beam down as a 30- year-old man and start his ministry. Jesus coded himself into human DNA. He was fetus in a womb. He was a baby in his mother’s arms. He was a toddler who would have stumbled around as he figured out how to walk and all the rest of it. He was a teenager; he would have gone through puberty. He was a 30—something-year-old man. So, he didn’t just experience a taste of humanity – he experienced the fullness of what it means to be physically human.”(2)
          In today’s reading, Mary Magdalene has the most touching encounter with the post – resurrection Jesus. She was weeping among the olive trees in the garden. Jesus found her. She was confused, she didn’t recognize – she supposed he was the gardener, and begs for the body. The Jesus spoke – “Mary.” And her eyes were opened and she saw Jesus. She went back to the disciples and announced, “I have seen the Lord.”
         Isn’t that what we all want – to see the Lord? That’s why we are gathered here today – for an experience of the Risen Christ.
          Jesus’ detour en-route to the right of God served a purpose. It serves to prove that Jesus is one of us. The disciples thought they were seeing a ghost. But they were wrong. He was one of them – fully human, fully divine, risen from the dead. So, I invite you to put aside any lingering doubts you might have about this remarkable story of death defeated and experience the wonder and the power of the resurrected Christ.
          Today is Easter! Christ is Risen, Alleluia. Alleluia. Amen.
          Will you join me…
1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
2. Ibid…

03-28-24 Worth Remembering - Maundy Thursday

Thomas J Parlette
“Worth Remembering”
John13: 1-17, 31b-35
3/28/24, Maundy Thursday
          Philosophers and anthropologists have long debated over what makes human beings different from other creatures. It isn’t our ability to build our own shelter – birds and beavers both build their own houses. It isn’t over use of tools either – many animals use tools. Even a simple seagull can employ a rock to open a shell. We aren’t different because we organize ourselves into societies. Ants have an elaborate social structure, including “hospitals for their sick, and “nurseries” for their young. Nor is it our use of language that sets us apart. Whales and dolphins have sophisticated language as well. It isn’t even our larger brain. Dolphins actually have bigger brains than ours, in comparison with their bodies.
          There are lots of things that human beings have in common with other creatures. But one thing that sets up apart is the act of remembrance. Human beings are the only creatures I know that both remember and honor their dead. I have seen stories about faithful dogs that won’t leave their owners sides and they have attended their funerals. But when it’s over, it’s over, and even man’s best friend moves on. I’ve also read stories about elephants, coming upon the dead body of another elephant, will stop and touch it with their trunks, and trumpet loudly, as if mourning the loss, sometimes for hours. But then they move on.
          Only human beings erect mausoleums and tombstones to keep the memory of a loved one alive. We are the only species who endow colleges, hospitals, libraries, parks and scholarships in a loved one’s name. Remembrance seems to be one of the things that is truly unique to human beings.
          We don’t want to forget our loved ones. And we ourselves don’t want to be forgotten either. In a cemetery in Hiawatha, Kansas, there is a strange tribute to one man’s desire to be remembered. John M. Davis was a wealthy but eccentric local farmer. His wife had died decades before him, in 1930. Soon after her death, Davis began commissioning a series of statues, using Kansas granite and later, Italian marble. The statues depicted important scenes in Davis’ life.
          The Davis memorial is large, impressive and expensive – but it draws a lot of visitors to Hiawatha, Kansas. Davis sought to be remembered – and he is, as a bit of a curious man, maybe even an oddball. But he is remembered.
          Human beings remember. We all want to be remembered. What did Jesus ask for us as remembrance? Jesus wrote no books. He established no organization. He chose no clear successor. He built no memorials.
          No, the way Jesus wanted to be remembered was through a simple act. On the night before he died, he gathered his twelve closest followers together in what I imagine was a smoky, dimly lit room, a floor or so above the busy streets outside. Those gathered were mostly poor, mostly uneducated, mostly unsophisticated and usually unreliable individuals. One of them was a betrayer and one of them was a denier and all of them would abandon Jesus in the end. But Jesus knew all this already. Still, he entrusted his life’s work and his memory to them, in the simple act of communion.
          “This is my body broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
This cup is the new covenant, sealed by my blood. Drink this in remembrance of me.”
          No building, no books, no structure, no successor. Just bread and wine. Doesn’t seem like much, does it? Yet, some 2000 years later, we still do this in remembrance of him.
          Tonight, as we receive communion, let us remember Jesus.
Let us remember the character of his life.
Let us remember his prayerfulness, how he got up early and stayed up late, to pray to God.
Let’s remember his gentleness, how he called little children to himself.
Let us remember his joy and enthusiasm for life that was infectious.
Let’s remember how he resisted temptation and never gave in to sin.
Let us remember his concern for the sick, the needy and the forgotten
Let us remember how he spoke for what he believed.
Let’s remember his courage in the face of death.
Let’s remember how, when he was dying, he prayed for his enemies.
Let us remember how he was obedient to God, even though it meant suffering and death.
          When we share the bread and the cup, as he asked us to, and remember, we are remembering the purest, best and most remarkable human being that ever lived. Let us remember Jesus’ life.
          Let us also remember he willingly gave up his life for our sake. In Norway there is a small church known as The Church of the Lamb. Its steeple is topped, not with a cross, but with a wooden carving of a lamb. Not an uncommon symbol for Jesus – but that’s not why is lamb is on their steeple. It seems that as the church was being built, a crew of workers was up on the roof. One man lost his footing and slipped off the roof.
          He might have been killed, except at that precise moment a flock of sheep were being driven past the church. This unfortunate workman, fell on top of one of the sheep, which broke his fall and saved his life. But the sheep was killed. Later when the church was completed, the congregation put a carving of a sheep up on the steeple – to be reminded of the animal itself, but also Jesus, known as the lamb of God.
          Jesus, not accidentally, but knowingly and willingly gave up his life for us all. This evening, as we receive the bread and cup, let us remember Jesus sacrificial death. But most of all, let us remember, sense, experience, and be guided by his continued presence with, in this supper shared in memory of him.
          That, my friends, is something worth remembering.
          May God be praised. Amen.

03-17-24 A Bit of Street Theater - Palm Sunday

Thomas J Parlette
“A Bit of Street Theater”
John 12: 12-16
03/24/24, Palm Sunday

          Golf is a sport that is known for some great nicknames.
          Jack Nicklaus was The Golden Bear.
          Ernie Els was The Big Easy for his height and his slow, smooth swing, easy-looking swing.
          Craig Stadler was The Walrus, because with his enormous moustache and sizable girth, he kinda looked like a walrus.
          And then there was Arnold Palmer, simply known as The King.
          Baseball is not far behind in the nickname department.
         The immortal Babe Ruth was The Babe.
          Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco were once known as The Bash Brothers for the home run hitting.
          Frank Thomas was The Big Hurt.
          David Ortiz was known as Big Papi
          And then there was Reggie Jackson, known as Mr. October, because come World Series time, he brought his best.
          But I have to say, one of the best all-time nicknames in history has to be “Lionheart.” King Richard 1st of England earned that name because of his courage in battle. He was a fearsome warrior and led a crusading army to the Holy Land to try to recapture Jerusalem. He very nearly succeeded.
          But there were divisions in the ranks, and the Third Crusade fell apart. The French and the Germans didn’t get along with the English. Kind Richard left for home, and it was then that his adventure really began.
          Passing through Germany in disguise, his identity was uncovered. The German Emperor Henry VI threw him into prison. Henry declared he wouldn’t let Richard go until the people of England had raised the staggering sum of 150,000 marks. At today’s price of silver, that would be around 17 million dollars.
          It was literally a king’s ransom. When the King is in prison, the people pay the price.
          All over England, money was collected to buy King Richard out of prison. Taxes were increased by 25%. Gold and silver treasures from cathedrals and abbeys were confiscated and melted down to raise money.
         Finally, there was enough. King Richard went free, and his return home has been celebrated as the final scene of every Robin Hood ever made. (1)
          When Jesus entered Jerusalem, he too was hailed as a king. And, like Richard the Lionheart, Jesus would soon be thrown into prison.
          Yet, for Jesus, there was no ransom – neither asked for or offered. They hauled him before the chief priests and the scribes, and eventually before the Roman Governor, Pilate.
          Jesus didn’t cut a very kingly figure in Pilate’s courtyard. They stripped him and beat him. The only crown he wore was woven from pieces of a thorn bush.
          Pilate, being a practical sort of politician, saw no advantage in treating Jesus as a visiting head of state, despite what the people had been calling him as he entered the city. Had there been anyone willing, or able, to raise a king’s ransom for him, the governor might have taken a different approach. But this country rabbi who rode into town on a donkey had nothing. As far as Pilate was concerned, he was just a troublemaker and insurrectionist. Pilate had learned to nip these Judean revolutionary movements in the bud. And so, he offered the mob that cruel choice – Jesus or the bandit, Barabbas. They chose Barabbas. King Jesus went to the cross.
          It had all looked so different just a few days before. The sun was shining, the crowds were cheering, and the people were running to catch a glimpse of him, calling out: “Blessed is the One who comes in the name of the Lord – the King of Israel!”
          What was on Jesus’ mind that day, as he allowed the people to make such a fuss over him? Usually, Jesus was pretty low-key, often directing his disciples not to say anything about the things he did. But now, amidst the cheers, Jesus didn’t contradict them. He didn’t say – “Me, a King? – no, I’m not the King you’re looking for.” No, he let the demonstration go on. He received the cries of adulation. He let the people lay their cloaks down on the road before him, a gesture of deference offered only to those of the highest rank. He let them go on waving palm branches, a politically provocative act, because palm branches had been the symbol of the Maccabean rebellion a century before. That revolt had succeeded for a brief time in throwing the foreign overlords out of Jerusalem.
          But this demonstration at the city gate was clearly not a serious invasion of Roman-held territory. Jesus had no army following behind him. He wore no victory wreath of victory on his head. He wasn’t riding a mighty war-horse, nor steering a chariot as you might expect a conquering hero to do.
          No, Jesus was perched atop a donkey like some country bumpkin, his feet almost dragging on the ground. And, as you may know, donkeys don’t’ always travel in straight line – they kinda go where they want. And sometimes, they stop altogether, dig in their heels and have to prodded along. Very likely, there was laughter in the crowd that day, as they watched this Nazarene rabbi make his zigzag way down the street.
          But despite the laughter, Jesus knew what he was doing. He was making it clear that he was no high-and-mighty general. He was a man of the people. Everyone could see that. But he was also doing something else that day. He was likely poking fun at the powers-that-be. He was gently mocking those in charge.
          Jesus’ triumphal entry has been called an exercise of revolutionary street theater. Merriam-Webster dictionary offers this definition of Street Theater: “A form of theatrical performance and presentation in outdoor public spaces without a specific paying audience, that often deals with controversial social and political issues.” (2) The drama of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem certainly fits that definition. Everybody back then knew what a kingly parade looked like. The Romans specialized in that sort of spectacle. Pontius Pilate himself undoubtedly climbed into a chariot at regular intervals and showed off the power of his troops.
          Everyone knew about the victory parades the Romans liked to mount after vanquishing their enemies. Those parades were famous for their pageantry. There were thousands of soldiers, marching rank-on-rank. You could hear them coming a long way off, with the beat of drums, the blare of trumpets, and the thunderous footsteps of legions marching row upon row. Each unit of men marched behind an imperial standard, a symbol perched high atop a pole. Often, that symbol was a brass or gilded Roman eagle displaying the letters “SPQR”- Latin initials that stood for “The Senate and the People of Rome.” (3)
          Back towards the end of the procession, there were huge war horses – snorting, stamping wild-eyed beasts bred for battle. They looked like they could break free at any moment and storm threw the crowd. Riding atop one of those horses, or perhaps rising in a chariot pulled by two or three horses, was Roman general, with a gleaming breastplate and a shiny helmet under his arm so he could display the olive wreath on his head – a symbol of triumph.
          Behind the general would be the battle-hardened troops, leading disheveled, defeated, prisoners of war. They had the wild look of a hunted animal in their eyes, for they knew they were not long for this world. After this parade ended, so would their lives – in a painful, violent act.
          Yes, the Romans knew their parades. They knew how to use them to show their power. The Romans knew that this kind of parade was an effective tool for communicating to the conquered people – “We are in command here. We are the Masters. The Emperor in Rome has power and glory like a god, and we are his chosen emissaries.
          And it worked. The Romans may not have said, “All the world’s a stage,” but their parades – effective stage presentations that they were – bore the unmistakable message: “All the world… is Rome’s”
          But, Jesus little bit of street theater was no competition for the Roman machine – as seen by the fact that Pilate sent no soldiers to bar his way. This was but a minor disturbance, a little kerfluffle at the edge of the city. The citizens who witnessed it were amused by this man who dared to make fun of the Roman overlords, but when you’re an overlord, you’ve got to be able to take a little ribbing now and again.
          No doubt there were informers in the crowd, roman agents hiding in the crowd to gauge the level of rebellion in this demonstration. But nobody really took it that seriously. But Jesus name had been noted. The Romans would keep this guy on their radar. And when, the next day, this same Jesus caused a disturbance at the Temple, disrupting the business activities going on there, well, something would have to be done about this man Jesus.
          Throughout this bit of street theater, Jesus makes it clear that he is a different sort of King.
         He is not the conquering king, riding into the city in triumph. No, he is a Suffering Servant King, just like Isaiah wrote about – “one who sets his face like flint,” then lays down his life for his subjects.
          Every other King dispatches soldiers into battle – to fight for his honor and the honor of the nation. But Jesus enters the battlefield – the city of Jerusalem – alone and unarmed, riding an animal of peace.
          Every other King plays the high-stakes game of thrones. Jesus is disarmingly simple and direct. He says what he means, and he means what he says.
          Every other King seeks to argue from a position of strength. Jesus seems to deliberately seek out a posture of weakness.
          Every other King upholds and embodies the law. France’s mightiest king – Louis the 14th, the Sun King – had a catchphrase: “L’etat c’est moi.” – “I am the State.” (4) But Jesus submits to the law, allowing himself to be crushed by it.
          A peculiar sort of King indeed, this Jesus of Nazareth. No wonder that Pilate will be baffled later this week when Jesus finally stands before him, uttering barely a word in his own defense.
          What Pilate doesn’t know – what no one knows, not even Jesus’ disciples – is that a ransom will be paid, but it’s going to be paid in reverse. The coming ransom will not be paid FOR Jesus, as it was for Richard the Lion-hearted. No, the coming ransom will be paid BY Jesus, for you and me, and the rest of the world. And the price will be be Jesus’ own blood.
         So, let us wave our palms today. Let us sing our hymns of victory. Let us cheer his triumphal entry and participate in this bit of street theater. But let us also be aware that, between the Hosannas of Palm Sunday and Alleluias of Easter, there is an arrest, a flogging, a trial – and ultimately, a cross.
          So let us be remember and be grateful for the kind of King who is willing to lay down his own life as a ransom for all.
          May God be praised. Amen.
1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
2. www.Merriam-webster.com, retrieved 3/17/24.
3. Homileticsonline, retrieved 3/5/24.
4. Ibid…

03-17-2024 Smelling Like a Rose

Thomas J Parlette
“Smelling Like a Rose”
Psalm 51: 1-12
3/17/24
          Of all the features of the human face, the nose probably gets the least respect. There are a myriad of poems written about silken hair, beautiful eyes and ruby red lips – but I don’t remember a single poem about the beauty of the nose.
But the jokes – yes, those abound. You’ve probably heard them before:
-         When I’m lying down, it looks like a sundial.
-         My nose is so big that when I do the backstroke, the lifeguard had the beach evacuated, thinking it was a shark.
-         My nose is so big that when I sneeze, everyone runs for cover.
         My nose arrives at my destination 10 minutes before I do. (1)
If you’d like to hear more, google that old Steve Martin movie “Roxanne” for that classic scene where he turns the tables on some guy in a bar who teases him about his nose.
     While it may not be beautiful, the nose is critical for our sense of smell. There’s a whole area of science dedicated to smell called the science of olfaction – the detection and identification of airborne chemicals and scents. Olfaction research is a rapidly growing discipline that not only studies how we recognize the whiff of a dead skunk lying on the side of the road, but also studies the ever-creative ways humans have of making themselves or their surroundings smell good.
     The science of smell is more than a reference to the ointments, creams, lotions, sprays and gels that ensure our armpits and feet are not offensive, or that your perfume or cologne is not overpowering. It is also about how we can live in an environment that is fragrant, healthy and olfactory-positive for those delightful nasal receptors that tell us when chocolate chip cookies are baking in the oven, or that heavenly smell when we walk into a bakery. (2)
     One’s sense of smell is so powerful that it can evoke long-held memories and be an aid to learning and memory retention, especially for those who are aging. In a recent study, participants were given a machine that released a brief spray of rose, orange, eucalyptus, lemon, peppermint, rosemary and lavender scents during sleep. The researchers then discovered that there was a 226 % improvement on a learning and memory test among those who “slept with a strong nightly scent compared with those that diffused distilled water every night.”  (3) So pleasing aromas can help you sleep. I suppose the opposite might be true as well – bad smells are hard to live with.
     In the Psalm before us today, almost always attributed to King David – David addresses a problem with his stinky behavior that is keeping him up at night.
     The King of Israel has done something bad – something that stinks to high heaven. It’s been a long time since he has smelled like a rose. Instead, he is more of a walking landfill, a toxic waste site.
     It’s an apt metaphor. The United States has 3,091 active landfills and more than 10,000 old municipal landfills, according to the Environmental Protection Agency, and most of them leak. (4) In some ways, this is David’s problem here in Psalm 51 – he knows he has a sin problem, and the problem of sin is that it leaks out and pollutes others.
     Landfills are basically bathtubs in the ground with liners and double-liners and so on. They can leak out the bottom or over the top, and towns like to locate their landfills far away. Which is precisely what David tried to do – keep his dirty little secrets hidden and out of sight where we think no one will notice. But, of course, it never works out that way.
     David’s behavior is stinking up the place and he knows it. He wants his life to smell like a rose again. He wants that fragrance that comes with being blessed by God. He wants the still waters of peace and green pastures of posterity to return.
     This is the key to the Psalm – David’s search for peace. And the key elements of this quest are confession, repentance and restoration.
     Verses 1-5 is where we see David’s confession. “I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me,” he cries. He has sinned against God, and what he has done is “evil in your sight.” He says that God has every right to “pass judgment” and sentence him to a punishment that is severe and just.
     David is right. His crimes were evil, and callous and selfish. You remember the story of Bathsheba, David’s beautiful neighbor. He sees her bathing on a nearby rooftop, and he is overcome with desire. So he arranges to have her husband sent to the front lines of the most dangerous battle – a suicide mission to be sure. He, in effect, has him murdered. David’s conduct was evil and if he were alive today in the United States, he probably would have been given several life sentences without parole or maybe even the death penalty in some places
     But he was honest in his confession about what he had done. And that’s a good thing. Martin Luther once observed that whoever first called Psalm 51 a “Penitential Psalm” knew what he was doing. The claim that Psalm 51 has been used in full or in part more often in worship and devotion than any other scripture is probably true. (5) We see this Psalm every year, more than once, in Advent and Lent, our two great seasons of confession and repentance.
     Now, I’m pretty sure none of us here has done something as bad as King David did – at least I hope not. But the Bible does urge us to confess our sins, whatever they may be. That can be the starting point for refreshing our lives. Consider the words of another piece of scripture, this from Proverbs 28:13: “No one who conceals transgressions will prosper, but one who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.”
     There is no doubt that David, considering his body of work in the Psalms and his close relationship with Samuel, the last ruling Judge of Israel, knew the scriptures. He knew he had to own up to his misdeeds.
     David moves on from confession to repentance in verse 6, and his pleas continue through verse 11. But the word “repent” doesn’t appear even once. In fact, the English word “repent” doesn’t appear very often in the Old Testament, less than a dozen times and that’s if you’re reading the King James Version. But the Hebrew word for “repent” or “repentance is a form of “shuv”, meaning “turn, and it occurs more than a 1,000 times in the Hebrew Bible. In the New Testament, the Greek word for repentance is “metanoia”, which essentially means to change one’s mind. (6)
     Think of Psalm 51 like a courtroom scene from Law or Order or a show like that. The trial is over, and the judge asks the convicted felon of there is anything he wants to say before the sentence is imposed. Psalm 51 is that statement. It is David, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, standing at one of those long, legal tables and addressing the judge. It begins with confession, and now, David starts to change his mind, he starts to turn in verse 6, expressing remorse and contrition. It’s an about-face for the proud and arrogant man who had formerly strutted and preened before a sunbathing married woman and who had later conspired to bring about the death of his rival for her affections. That person is gone. Now, David wants a total makeover of his spiritual house. He wants to rid himself of his foul smelling deeds, and restore the scent of God’s loving kindness. He uses words like “purge”, and “clean” and “wash”. He wants to be “whiter than snow.”
     When we turn from sin, we can ask God, as David does, to “hide your face from my sins.” In this psalm he comes straight to the point: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” Clearly, David is doing something more than saying he’s sorry. He wants to do-over. He wants a make-over. He wants to be a new person, a new creation. He wants a fresh start, a new beginning. He is at the turning point we call repentance. The confessor is ready to turn, leave behind their former life and set off on a new path of restoration.
     Restoration is never an easy road. Our personal relations and our human-Divine relationships are fragile and complex, prone to misunderstandings, conflicts and ultimately possible dissolution. Whether it’s a friendship, a romantic partnership, a family tie or even a professional relationship – no connection is immune from strain.
     However, just as relationships can be damaged, they can also be repaired and revitalized, especially after taking the first steps of confession and repentance.
     David seeks a reconciliation, a restoration with God. He knows it is possible because God is a forgiving God. It didn’t exist in David’s time, but I think he could have written the lyrics to that old hymn:
    “There is a wideness in God’s mercy,
      Like the wideness of the sea.
      There’s a kindness in God’s justice,
Which is more than liberty.
For the love of God is broader
Than the measures of the mind,
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.”
David’s knowledge of the wideness of God’s mercy, the kindness in God’s justice and his understanding that the love of God is deep and broad, and the heart of God is most wonderfully kind, empowers him to pray for restoration: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.”
David is doing everything right as he seeks restoration. He has engaged in self-reflection, he has acknowledged his sin. He understands his need for spiritual and personal growth, he is genuinely sorry for his mistakes and he wants to start over fresh. He knows this is a complex journey, but it’s not impossible. He has done the right things – Confession, Repentance and Restoration.
Kurt Vonnegut once said, “I still believe that peace and plenty and happiness can be worked out some way. I am a fool.” (7). With all due respect to Vonnegut, I would not agree. I think he’s closer to the Kingdom than he realizes. David also believed peace and plenty and happiness could, against all odds, be worked out some way.
          There is no better feeling than the peace that comes after the storm. The silence after the thunder. Clean air that smells like lilacs. Wide smiles of relief and joy. It’s a great feeling, and David remembers that feeling from experience. And he wants to feel it again.
          He wants to inhale fresh air. He wants to catch the aroma of peace, once again wafting through his life. What David wants is what we all want – who doesn’t want to live in harmony with God and with others?
          Fortunately, David discovered the secret to finding peace and removing the stench of sin in his life. He learned how he could come out smelling like a rose. The keys are Confession, Repentance and Restoration. Working with these three components of contrition, he could experience the joy of peace once again.
          “Smelling like a rose” describes that sweet-smelling state of divine grace and goodness. The expression reminds us that it is possible to sink to an unbelievably low point in life, as David did, to stink to high heaven, only to have high heaven come down and refresh us with restoration and peace.
          And when heaven fills our soul, nothing else matters.
          May be praised. Amen.
1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 2/6/24.
2. Ibid…
3. Ibid…
4. Ibid…
5.. Ibid…
6. James L. Mays, Psalms, John Knox Press, 1994, p 197-198.
7. Homileticsonline, retrieved 2/6/24

03-10-24 Toward a Safe Harbor

Thomas J Parlette
“Toward a Safe Harbor”
John 3: 14-21
3/10/24
          Sailing the high seas back in the Middle Ages was quite a different matter than it is today. If you were sailing a ship on the Mediterranean Sea in those days, you had no radios, no binoculars, and certainly no GPS or radar available. So what was a navigator to do? How did you find your way? Well, one tool at your disposal was something called a portolan chart.
          Hand-drawn and often quite colorful, these charts were drawn on vellum – an animal skin that had been prepared by cleaning, bleaching and stretching. The charts contained information that was lifesaving for sailors, who used them to find their way to the safety of a suitable port. Although these portolans contained very little information about inland geography, the charts were pretty good at providing crucial data about coastlines and harbors.
          Sailors called them “portolans” – an interesting word from the Italian word “portolano”, meaning “harbor official” or “navigation manual”, and they were designed to guide the user toward a safe harbor. (1)
          Portolans were used for more than 500 years, showing seafarers where to dock and how to avoid danger. According to the Yale Alumni Magazine, they were “renowned for their accuracy – which is remarkable, as early cartographers couldn’t see the coast from a distance.” (2) Portolans show major ports in red letters and minor ports in black. Shoals and other sailing hazards are identified with black dots.
          And here is an interesting tidbit that might surprise you if you are accustomed to holding a map with the north side up and the south side down. “Portolans were designed to be rotated to suit viewers at a communal table, they were not drawn with a distinct top or bottom.” (3)
So, a portolan could be understood from any side or any angle.
          This third chapter of the Gospel of John contains what is probably the most famous verse in the Bible – “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.” I’m sure many of you know that verse by heart. It tells us that Jesus is God’s Son, the eternal Word of God in human form. He invites us to believe in him, so we will not perish. And he shows us the way to live, so that we can enjoy the safety and security of eternal life with God.
          In a way then, Jesus is God’s portolan, guiding us toward the safe harbor of eternal life with God.
         So, how does it work? God put God’s Word in human skin, long before navigational charts were put on animal skin. “In the beginning was the Word,” says John in the first chapter of his Gospel. “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and full of truth.” Yes, it was in Jesus that the Word of God became flesh, visible in human skin. It was the appearance of God in Jesus that allowed us to experience the grace and truth of God in a way that we never could before.
          All those ancient scrolls just did not do the trick. No – we needed to see God’s word in flesh and blood, walking among us.
        In today’s passage, Jesus is talking with a Pharisee named Nicodemus. During their conversation, Jesus tells him that God has a history of providing portolan charts to save God’s people. He says, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
        The reference to the serpent here is from our Old Testament lesson this morning from Numbers. It’s part of a long series of stories in Numbers in which the people complain about just about everything regarding life in the desert – including todays verses regarding the food and water, which they describe as “miserable.”
          In many instances, God sends punishments on Israel for their complaining and rebellious behavior, although Moses is able to step in and act as an intermediary between God and the people – saving them from God’s wrath.
          Such is the case in this passage. After God punishes the people for their complaints about the food by sending poisonous snakes among them, they apologize and Moses prays to the Lord. God offers Moses a portolan by saying, “Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So, Moses made a serpent out of bronze and put it on a pole. And sure enough, whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.
          Like the serpent on the pole, Jesus is God’s portolan. He is as visible as the serpent of Moses, the one we look up to when we are in danger of perishing, when we are scared as medieval sailors on a dark and stormy sea. The promise is as true today as it has ever been – “everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
          Belief is so important in John 3:16. Navigators in the Middle Ages had to believe in their portolans to avoid dying at sea. We are invited to believe in Jesus to avoid perishing in the journey of life. Fortunately, we can trust him to rescue us and guide us. He is the clearest possible sign that God loves us and wants to save us.
          The two meanings of the Italian word “Portolano” – “harbor official” and “navigation manual” are also significant. Jesus plays both roles as he guides us toward eternal life. He is not only the Word of God in human skin, but he is the one who leads us away from danger and toward a safe harbor with God.
          For instance, I’m a big fan of the Bravo show “Below Deck.” It’s wonderful escapist TV as it takes place on yachts in exotic locales like Australia, the Caribbean and the Mediterranean. In one recent season, the mega yachts home port was an exceptionally tight and crowded area. Even the most experienced captains were not allowed to dock the ships on their own. Before they pulled into port, they radioed the harbor master who would send out a specially trained pilot to guide the boat through the harbor because they knew all the hazards and depths better than the captains.
          Jesus is like the harbor master. Jesus is the one sent by God to welcome us home and lead us safely into port. “Indeed,” says the Gospel of John, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned.”
          Think about how important it is to trust the harbor official. If we follow their guidance, we are going to dock safely. If we don’t trust them and argue with them instead, we are going to end up on the rocks.
          You may remember the story of two radio operators on a foggy night. A large Navy ship sees a blip on their radar, indicating another craft ahead.
Radio 1, from the Navy vessel – “Please divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision.”
Radio 2 – That’s a negative, advise you to divert your course 15 degrees.
Radio 1 – This is a US Navy ship. I repeat, divert your course.
Radio 2 – Divert your course.
Radio 1 – This is an aircraft carrier of the United States Navy. Divert your course immediately!
Radio 2 – This is a lighthouse. Your call. (4)
          Jesus is not only our harbor official; he is also our lighthouse. All the guidance he gives is designed to keep us from crashing. By believing in him, we will not perish but will have eternal life.
          And Jesus is our navigation manual. He is the one who shows us how to walk in the light of God’s truth and God’s grace. “And this is the judgment,” says the Gospel of John, “that light has come into the world, and the people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil… But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”
          In John’s Gospel, there is a lot of talk about light and darkness, with light always referring to good and darkness always referring to evil. This is an unfortunate pairing, since we know that darkness is not always bad. Babies grow in the darkness of the womb, and seeds sprout and grow in the darkness of the earth. And unfortunately, language about dark and light can spill over into assessments of skin tones, adding fuel to the fire of racism.
          Better to talk simply about good and evil, and say that Jesus has come to guide us in the path of truth and goodness and grace. He is a navigation manual for us; he helps us avoid the dangers of lies and evil actions and judgmental attitudes. When we follow Jesus, we walk the path of the One who “is the way and the truth and the life.” When we imitate his actions, we show goodness and generosity to others. And when we receive his grace, we not only experience forgiveness for ourselves, but we become able to forgive those who have hurt us.
          Jesus is the One we consult when we need to find our way. To have such a figure on our portolan charts is really nothing new. Historians have found that the Red Sea was often depicted on portolans in the Middle Ages. This wasn’t because Mediterranean sailors needed to find their way through the Red Sea – they didn’t. The Mediterranean and the Red Sea weren’t connected until the Suez Canal opened in 1869. No, the Red Sea was included as a reminder to the sailors. It told them that God was with them, working for good in their lives, just as God had been with the Israelites as they crossed the Red Sea to escape oppression in Egypt. (5)
          So we can think of Jesus as God’s portolan, the Word of God in human skin. He is our harbor official, our navigation manual and our lighthouse. He can be approached from many sides, by people of diverse backgrounds and perspectives. When you find yourself unable to see what lies ahead, put your faith in him. He will keep you from perishing and guide you toward the safe harbor of eternal life with God.
         May God be praised. Amen.

03-03-2024 Bad For Business

Thomas J Parlette
“Bad for Business”
John 2: 13-22
3/3/24
          There are certain things that get under my skin. Things that irritate me – pet peeves, if you will. We all have some I guess,
          In my case, I’m very fussy about remote controls, and yes, I sometimes call them “clickers.” I like to keep the remotes on our coffee table at home, that way everyone knows where they are. That way they won’t slide down between the couch cushions or find their way into the kitchen because somebody went to the microwave to pop popcorn. Keep the remote on the coffee table.
          I’m the same way about turning out lights. I am forever turning out lights in empty rooms in our house - I hope you can hear my family’s eyes rolling in unison because they are so tired of my dad lectures on those topics.
          And of course, we’ve all got some pet peeves while we’re driving. For instance, it really gets under my skin when you pull into a fast food restaurant to grab a coffee or something, and there are 14 cars ahead of you. How is that fast? Or – whenever I’m driving south on Broadway coming into church, it seems I always have a car ahead of me that slows down to crawl to make a turn into MOKA, without using a turn signal. I have nothing against MOKA – but please let me know you are turning!
          One last pet peeve – those TV shows where one of the characters gets married, and one of the other lead characters goes online to get ordained as a minister in the Church of Spiritual Whatever for twenty bucks so they can perform their friend’s wedding. At this point, my family just gets up and walks out of the room, because they know what’s coming.
          Well, this morning we get a little glimpse of something that really gets under Jesus’ skin. The situation at the Temple really pushed his buttons and he gets angry.
          The story of the cleansing of the Temple can make us a little uncomfortable, because it’s one of those times when we see Jesus being very “un-Jesus like.” The image of an angry Jesus flipping over tables and causing a stampede doesn’t really sit well with our images of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, meek and mild, or the baby Jesus lying in a manger. This angry Jesus can trouble us.
          This story of Jesus clearing out the Temple is one of the few stories that is told in all four gospels. The synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke – all tell us this story happened towards the end of Jesus’ ministry, when he came to Jerusalem just before his crucifixion. John however, places this story right at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. In fact, according to John, Jesus was in Jerusalem for the Passover at least three different times, while the other gospels have Jesus only making one trip to the Holy City.
          Biblical scholars have long wrestled with this inconsistency. Solutions or explanations for these discrepancy have fallen generally into three categories.
This story only happened once, during Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem during Holy Week, as the synoptics tell us.
2. The cleansing happened at the start of Jesus’ ministry, as John tells us.
3. Some have offered a third option to say, maybe there were two cleansing episodes, and Matthew Mark, Luke and John all have it right.
          For the most part, that third option, that this story happened twice, has been ruled out, and scholars go back and forth over the proper chronology of this story.
          But when you consider the purposes of each of the Gospels, it becomes a little clearer why John puts this story at the beginning. Matthew, Mark, and Luke are most concerned about telling us what Jesus did and said. But John was much more concerned with identifying who Jesus was. John assumes that his audience already knows the stories and the facts of Jesus’ life – he was more concerned in showing his listeners who Jesus was. For John, this cleansing of the Temple establishes Jesus as the new dwelling place of God. Now that Jesus has come, God will dwell with the people not through the Temple, but through an actual, flesh and blood person. All four Gospels record Jesus saying “Tear down this Temple and I will rebuild it in three days”, with the disciples realizing what Jesus meant after his death and resurrection. But John wants that early in his story so we can see who Jesus was right from the beginning.
          Whenever we deal with a passage from John, we should be careful to note how he refers to “the Jews.” Unfortunately, passages such as these have been used to support anti-semitism in the Christian community for years. It’s been improving in recent years, but historically, passages like this one have been used to scapegoat “the Jews” as a people, blaming them for killing Jesus. We must be careful to remind ourselves that all the characters in this story are Jewish, including Jesus and his disciples and everyone gathering in Jerusalem for the Passover festival. We need to take into account that when John refers to “the Jews”, he is not using that pejoratively for all Jewish people. He is referring to specific Jewish people, the religious officials within Judaism. He is referring to those people who are responsible for running things at the Temple. So, whenever we read John, whenever he says “the Jews”, we should probably substitute “the religious officials or establishment.”
          So, in addition to the placement of the story of Jesus’ visit to the Temple, there are a couple of other ways that John’s story is different from Matthew, Mark and Luke.
          First, although Matthew and Mark both mention that doves were for sale as sacrificial animals there in the Temple courts, only John tells us that there were oxen and sheep for sale as well. Luke doesn’t even mention the animals.
          The other thing unique to John version is that Jesus fashions a whip of cords to use as he drives the animals out of the Temple. At times, this story is portrayed as an impromptu act, as if Jesus gets caught up in the heat of the moment and loses his cool, so we can downplay the anger that comes out here. But as John tells it, this was deliberate act, something planned out, it was not spontaneous. Jesus had to take at least some time to gather enough cords and then find a way to fasten them together somehow to make this whip cords. This was a deliberate show of righteous anger. So why was Jesus so angry about this?
          The religious officials who were responsible for worship in the Temple probably had good intentions when all this buying and selling started. After all, people came from miles away to be here for Passover and they needed to buy animals for sacrifice and get their money changed to the proper currency. It was just good business when it all started. It served a much needed purpose.
          But over the centuries, the sacrificial system had evolved into an efficient machine for fleecing the rich and poor alike, earning a great deal of money for the insiders who ran the system.
          If you went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, your goal was to sacrifice an animal according to the law of Moses. You could bring your own sacrificial animal, of course, but many who made the journey didn’t want to transport an animal, they fund it easier to purchase one on site – at a steep mark up of course.
          The law said that you had to present a perfect animal, without mark or blemish. So unless you had purchased a pre-approved animal within the Temple precincts, you had to take your offering to an inspector, who would tell you if the animal met the standard or not. Of course, many of the inspectors were in the pockets of the animal-sellers, so they rarely approved any sacrificial animal brought in from the outside.
          And there was something else. If you had journeyed from one of the surrounding lands where Jewish people had settled – like Greece, Egypt, Asia Minor or even Rome – well, you probably had imperial Roman coins on you, engraved with the likeness of the Emperor. Such graven images violated the 2nd Commandment, so they were forbidden in the Temple. You couldn’t use that to pay the Temple tax. So to make an offering or buy an animal for sacrifice, you had to go to the moneychangers to exchange your Roman coins for image-free Judean coins – all for a price, of course. Since there was no other option, you had to pay whatever commission they asked. Quite a racket they had going.
          When Jesus arrived at the Temple and saw this flea-market atmosphere and people being taken advantage of when they had come to worship God, he was incensed over the injustice of it all. This was not what the Temple was for. This was not what God wanted. That was what angered Jesus about the scene at the Temple.
          So after he created a stampede and flipped over the money changers tables, the religious officials could see – this was bad for business! This was their peak season. They needed to make their money now, during Passover, so they could pay for the upkeep of the Temple. So they question Jesus – “What sign can you show us for doing these this.”
          Notice here, that they don’t try to arrest Jesus for causing this disturbance, at least not now. They don’t order him to leave, they don’t send soldiers in after him. No, they ask for a sign. At some level, these Jewish religious officials knew that Jesus had a point. Maybe they knew that things had gotten out of hand. Maybe some of them secretly wished they could throw those moneychangers out themselves. Maybe they had just gotten so used to the system functioning as it did, bringing in the money they needed to keep the Temple going, that they were content to look the other way and let the religious stuff slide a bit. Maybe.
          Jesus’ answer however comes back to haunt him later. He tells the authorities – “Destroy this Temple, and in three days, I will raise it up again.” That’s the only charge that stuck later in Holy Week at Jesus’ trial, although the officials changed the wording to “He said he would tear down the Temple and re-build it in three days.” Not exactly what Jesus said, and certainly not what he meant, as his disciples remembered what he said and figured out he was talking about the temple of his body.
          This passage shows us that anger is not a sin in and of itself. It’s ok to get angry. Jesus did. What’s more important is what makes us angry and what do we want to happen as a result of our anger. Jesus was angry at how worship had been mangled to cheat people out of experiencing God. He was mad at the injustice of it all. What Jesus wanted to see happen was people coming back to the right worship of God. Back in Genesis 18, verse 18, Israel’s earliest calling was to reach out to all the nations of the world. In that verse we read, “Abraham shall become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him.” The prophet Isaiah built on that calling in Isaiah 42, verse 6 and 7: “I am the Lord. I have called you in righteousness. I have taken you by the hand and kept you. I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.”
          What was happening at the Temple, with the sacrificial system and the moneychangers was not being a light to the nations – it was taking advantage of people. And for Jesus that had to stop.
          The controversial comedian Lenny Bruce once famously said, “Every day people are straying away from church and going back to God.”
          Maybe that’s exactly what Jesus was doing here. Calling the people back to God. For in Jesus we will not need to offer sacrifices or visit the Temple to experience God. Jesus will take the place of the Temple. God in present to us now, not in a Temple, but in the person of Jesus Christ.
          As we come to the table this morning, let us give thanks for “Immanuel” – God with us, in this meal shared in the Spirit with Jesus Christ.
          May God be praised. Amen.

02-25-2024 The Father of Many Nations

Thomas J Parlette 
The Father of Many Nations”
Gen. 17: 1-7, 15-16 
May 25, 2024    
    “The Rivulet-loving wanderer Abraham
          Through waterless wastes tracing his fields of pasture
          Led his Chaldean herds and fattening flocks
          With the meandering art of wavering water
          That seeks and finds, yet does not know it’s way.
He came, rested and prospered, and went on,
Scattering behind him little pastoral kingdoms,
And over each one its own particular sky,
Not the great rounded sky through which he journeyed,
That went with him but when he rested changed.
His mind full of names
Learned from strange peoples speaking alien tongues,
And all that was theirs one day he would inherit.
He died content and full of years, though still
The Promise had not come, and he left his bones,
Far from his father’s house, in alien Canaan.”

          That poem by Edwin Muir, nicely encapsulates the man we meet today – Abraham, the father of many nations.
          Abraham is such a unique character in world history. All 3 of the world’s great monotheistic religions – Judaism, Islam and Christianity – trace their roots to Abraham. The Jewish faith tends to emphasize the connection between Abraham’s “going forth” and the internal spiritual journey that all of us take. Muslims stress Abraham’s submission to God as the major feature here – obedience to the will of God. In fact, the word “muslim” means “one who submits to God.” And for us Christians, we point to Abraham’s faith and trust in God as he does what God says with no arguments or excuse – no questions asked. He just packs up and goes. For us, accepting this call from God makes Abraham the Father of Faith.
          As I said, Abraham is unique, and he is quite amazing. Just think about this little bit of the story we heard today. God said “Go – I’ve got great plans for you. I will make great nations out of you.” And he went. Abraham took God at his word. He held God’s promise as true. He wondered out loud how God was going to bring all this about – but he had faith that if God said it was going to happen, it would happen. He never asked any questions. He never argued or demanded any proof. He never looked for a way out or offered any excuses. He never said “I can’t”- he just went.
          Once upon a time, an elementary school teacher asked her students to write down as many “I can’ts” as possible.
          I can’t kick a soccer ball past second base.
          I can’t do addition without using my fingers.
          I can’t get that girl in science class to like me
          I can’t do ten push-ups.
          I can’t get boys to notice me.
          I can’t eat just one cookie.
          All the students then put their “I can’ts” into a shoebox, and their teacher took them outside to a remote spot on the playground, right underneath a beautiful tree. The teacher told her students – “Today we are going to have a funeral for all your “I can’ts” They dug a little hole, and they carefully placed their shoebox full of “I can’ts” in the hole and covered it with dirt.
          Then the teacher told her students to join hands, and she gave the eulogy. “Friends, we are gathered here today to honor the memory of “I can’t.” While he was on earth, he touched many lives, some more than others. His name has been spoken in every public place – schools, city halls, state capitols and churches. He is survived by his brothers and sisters – “I Can,” “I Will”, and “I’m going to right away.” They are not as well-known as their famous relative and are certainly not as strong and powerful yet. Perhaps someday, with your help, they will make an even bigger mark on the world. May “I can’t” rest in peace and may everyone present pick up their lives and move forward in his absence. Amen.”
          Then the students went back to their classroom where they celebrated the passing of “I Can’t” with cookies, popcorn and juice. The teacher made a tombstone from butcher paper and wrote – “I Can’t” – at the top with the date on the bottom. She posted the tombstone on the bulletin board and made a habit of pointing at it whenever a student said “I Can’t”.
          Abraham must have had a teacher like that, because I can’t just isn’t in his vocabulary. His story is the model of faith and trust that Paul encourages us to live by. Abraham put every nagging “I can’t” to bed and ventured out to a new country, with no idea where he was going. The only thing he knew was who he was following.
          A number of years ago, the late Pope John Paul was traveling to a much anticipated and historic meeting with the Secretary General of the United Nations. The Pope’s plane was scheduled to land at JFK in New York – but due to unsafe wind conditions, his plane had to be re-routed to Newark. A limousine picked up the Pope and whisked him away to his meeting.
          With only minutes to spare, anxious Pope leaned forward and asked the limo driver – “Can you drive a bit faster, my son, I’m going to be late.” But the driver said, “I’m sorry, Your Holiness, but I can’t afford another speeding ticket. If I get another ticket, I’m going to lose my license.”
          A sympathetic Pope then asked the driver to pull over. To the chauffer’s amazement, the Pope got out of the limo, tapped on the driver’s side window and told him that he would drive the rest of the way. So the driver moved to the back seat and the Pope got behind the wheel.
          Driving much faster than the chauffer would have dared, the Pope darted in and out of traffic – narrowly missing several parked cars. A police officer witnessed the speeding limo and promptly pulled the car over. “Let me handle this one,” the officer said to his partner. “When I’m through with this guy he’s going to have at least 5 tickets.”
         But after only a minute, the visibly shaken officer returned to his squad car with his ticket book still unopened. His partner asked what happened, and the officer said, “I couldn’t write him a ticket – this guy was big. I mean REALLY big.”
          “Who was it?” asked his partner. “The mayor… the Governor… the President. Don’t tell me you pulled over the President of the United States?”
         “No, he’s bigger than all of them.”
          “Oh come on – who’s bigger than the President?
          Well, I’m not exactly sure who it was – but the Pope was his chauffer!”
          Abraham knew that God was the one who was driving the car. He was able to give up control, give God the wheel and enjoy the ride from the back seat. As Jesus says  – “Those who lose their lives  will ultimately gain their lives.” Those who give up control of their lives to God will find life.
          Abraham knew that deep down in his bones. Put God in the center, not himself, and abundant life would come to him.
          That’s no small lesson is it? It can take years to come to grips with that little paradox. Henri Nouwen once wrote that “This paradox becomes visible in very ordinary situations. If we cling to our friends, we may lose them, but if we are non-possessive in our relationships, we will make friends. If fame is what we seek and desire, it often vanishes as soon as we acquire it, but if we have no need to be known, we might be remembered long after our deaths. When we want to be in the center, we easily end up on the margins, but when we are free enough to be wherever we must be, we often find ourselves in the center.”
        When we can give up the center – we find ourselves in the center. By giving up our lives – we gain our lives. The great paradox of Christianity.
          Abraham seemed to have an intuitive understanding of that paradox. We have a word for that mysterious, elusive idea. We have a word for that intuitive sense – Faith.
          There’s a story about a missionary and Bible translator in India who was working on a translation of the New Testament into one of the many dialects of Southern India. He was looking for a word for “faith” and was having a difficult time of it.
          One day, a young boy from the village came into his study. Hunched over the manuscript, the missionary waved the boy over to a chair in the corner, saying he’d be with him in a minute.
         When he looked up, the missionary saw the boy walking around the chair, looking at it from every angle, but not sitting on it. The missionary repeated, “Have a seat, we can talk in a minute.” But the boy continued to examine the chair in amazement.
          Then the missionary realized what was going on. This was such an isolated village, the boy had never seen a western-style chair before. He wasn’t sure he could sit on such a flimsy-looking thing, and have it bear his weight.
          Then the boy asked a question in his native tongue. Included within it was a single word that meant, “Can I give myself to this and know that it will hold me up?” A light went on for the translator – he knew he had found just the right word for faith.
          That’s what Abraham had – trust that God was strong enough to rest his life on. Abraham knew that faith and trust in God was what would guide him through life. He could give himself to God and know that God would hold him up.
          As Paul points out – our works, our accomplishments, everything we try to do on our own – just falls short. The only thing we need for salvation is faith and trust in God. That’s what Abraham, the father of many nations – Jewish, Islamic and Christian – can teach us.
          So as we continue on our own journey in this Lenten season, a journey that takes us through familiar and unfamiliar territory – let us put our faith in God. Let us trust that God can bear the weight of anything we try to carry on our own. Let us live by faith and trust that the promises of God will come true.
          May God be praised. Amen.

02-11-2024 Eyes of Faith

Thomas J Parlette
“Eyes of Faith”
2 Corinthians 4: 3-6
2/11/24

          When I was in the 4th grade, I used to walk to school. It wasn’t far, less than a mile – so unless it was raining or snowing, I would walk. A bunch of neighborhood kids would gather at the corner and we’d walk to school together.

          Every day, we had to walk pass this one particular house that had a huge German chained up in the yard. And he did not like kids. He would charge out after us and we just had to hope the chain held – otherwise he would tear us apart. It was pretty terrifying. So, to avoid that dog, we would walk a couple of extra blocks out of our way. It added a bit of time to our route, but it was worth it to avoid being terrorized that dog.

          That’s the way it is with those huge obstacles, those daunting problems, those frightening situations we face in life. Some people go over them. That is, you know the problem is there but you just scratch the surface, gloss over the problem, brush up against it but you don’t really address it. It’s always there and you minimize the danger. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

          Other people decide to go under the problem, meaning they bury their heads in the ground and don’t even acknowledge it. They don’t name it. They think, “If I don’t talk about it and I don’t think about it, maybe it will just go away.” But pretty soon the problem suffocates you with its weight. Choosing not to do something is a decision.

          But people with eyes of faith choose to go through the difficulties they face. They can see what others can’t. They name the problem, identify the problem, stare that problem right in the eye and decide that the only way to conquer this problem is go through it.

          On this Transfiguration Sunday, Jesus three closest disciples go with him up a mountain, and their eyes were opened. They saw what others could not see. There on the mountaintop, they saw Jesus in all his glory. Even though the stumbled and were often filled with doubt, they now had eyes of faith.

          In our epistle reading today from 2nd Corinthians, Paul wrote about such eyes of faith. “Our gospel is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case, the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ…” Paul, however has eyes of faith. He can see things others cannot.

          Perhaps you remember the story in 2nd Kings, chapter 6 about Elisha? The king of Aram was an enemy of Israel. However, he couldn’t seem to surprise Israel’s army. Unknown to him, God would tell Elisha the prophet where the enemy was waiting to ambush them and Elisha would warn the King of Israel. Every time, the army of Israel would escape unharmed.

          When the king of Aram heard that Elisha was giving away their position, he sent troops to capture Elisha. One night, they snuck in and surrounded the village where Elisha and his servant were staying. In the morning, when they woke up, they looked outside – and each of them saw a different situation.

          Elisha’s servant saw the soldiers of Aram surrounding them on all sides. He saw defeat. He saw no escape. But Elisha, with eyes of faith, saw something else. Elisha offered a quick prayer that God would open the eyes of his servant as well. Then the servant took a second look. This time he saw a band of angels surrounding the Aramean army who far outnumbered the enemy. Elisha didn’t hide, run away. Or even deceive the enemy. He didn’t go around the problem, over the problem or under the problem. He went through the problem. He faced the problem with eyes of faith knowing in his heart that there were more FOR him than AGAINST him.

          When I was in my high school years, I used to think about faith in terms of a list of doctrines or beliefs that you had to accept before becoming a member of a club or joining a church. I thought of Confirmation as that time when you learned the beliefs that you had to hold.

          As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to see faith in much more active terms. There are a lot of people who believe in God, but they don’t really have faith. Faith is living against the odds. Faith has less to do with what you believe and more to do with how you decide to live. Faith is seeing the enemy surround you, the problem overtaking you, the crisis overwhelm you – and instead of going around it or over it or under it, you decide to do what Paul and Elisha did. Go through it with eyes of faith.

          Why is that so important? Because Paul wrote about two ways to live. You can live with blinded eyes that are veiled and unable to see the glory of God. Or, you can live with eyes of faith that walk you through the storms of life.

          Sometimes God parts the water and you walk right through the obstacle you’re facing. Sometimes God the eyes and sight comes back. Sometimes God heals miraculously. Unfortunately, those are the exceptions. Usually, and don’t ask me why, usually you can’t get over or around or under such problems. Most of the time, you have to go through them. And for that, you need eyes of faith.

          You will recall that the topic of faith is one of the major themes of the book of Hebrews. There we find perhaps the most familiar definition of faith we have – “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

          The writer of Hebrews then launches into a long list of examples of this kind of faith.

 By faith, we understand that the world was formed by God. We never saw it.

By faith, Noah built an ark without seeing the first drop of rain.

By faith, Abraham and Sarah left their homeland without seeing a map or a travel itinerary of where they going.

Abraham and Sarah believed they would have a son – without seeing any way that that would be possible.

By faith, Joseph saved his people in Egypt from famine.

By faith, Moses led the people out of bondage in Egypt, through the desert and right to the edge of the Promised land, despite never seeing it for himself.

          After this long list of people who by faith went through these problems and obstacles with eyes of faith, Hebrews 11 concludes with these words:

          “By faith these people overthrew kingdoms, ruled with justice, and received what God had promised them. They shut the mouths of lions, quenched the flames of fire and escaped death by the edge of the sword. Their weakness was turned into strength. They became strong in battle and put whole armies to flight.”

          A lot of action in those verses – overthrowing kingdoms, ruling with justice, shutting the mouth of lions and quenching flames of fire. I suppose they could have responded differently. I suppose Abraham and Sarah could have just said – No, we’re not moving. We’re staying right here. I suppose Noah could have gone around the problem, built a couple of canoes, and hoped for the best. I suppose Joseph could have gone over the problem, shrugged and said, “Why is a famine that will kill the Egyptians my problem?”

          But instead, they went through their obstacles with eyes of faith. They couldn’t see where the path would lead or how the story would end, but they still went through. Like Elisha, they looked out at the obstacle they were facing and thought, “It sure looks bad out there. The path looks incredible hard. No doubt my life is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better, but I press on, I go forward, I go through convinced that there are more who are FOR me than AGAINST me.”

          Early in my ministry, I remember talking to a man who had suffered terrible abuse as a child. For a long time, he went over it by denying it happened. He tried going around it by avoiding the problem with alcohol, work and exercise addiction. He tried going under it, saying, “It happened a long time ago. I’m over it.” However, the demons of his past were still there, breaking apart his marriage, ruining his business and destroying his health. He realized that the only thing he could do was put on his crash helmet and go right through it.

          When I knew him, he was about halfway through that battle. He would stop by every once in awhile and tell me he was making progress, but admitted that he knew that before it was going to get better, it was going to get a whole lot worse.

          But now, with eyes of faith, he was no longer suffering. He felt like he could see what the disciples saw on that mountaintop – the glory of Christ working in him, even as he walked his dark, difficult path.

          During one of our visits, he grabbed one of my Bibles and flipped open to Isaiah 43, and he shared with me his favorite verse:

          “When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

          Notice that the word “through” is used 3 times in those verses, just like it pops up in the 23rd Psalm as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. We will still go through deep waters; we will still go through difficult rivers. We will still go through fire and we still walk through the valley of the shadow of death. The difference now is that we do not travel alone. The ones who are FOR us outnumber the ones AGAINST us. The difference now is that you have eyes of faith.

          It is in this journey with eyes of faith through life’s difficult storms that Paul gives us this word of hope today. “For it is God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”

          May God be praised. Amen

01-21-2024 The Time is Fulfilled

Thomas J Parlette
“The Time is Fulfilled”
Mark 1: 14-20, 1st Cor. 7: 29-31
1/21/24

          Just when everything seems as normal as it could be, just when life is humming along as usual, sometimes, something can happen that shakes things up – and suddenly your life is re-prioritized and start to think differently.

          I remember back in 1989, an earthquake hit the San Francisco Bay area, causing the double-decker Bay Bridge to collapse. I remember it well because the quake struck during a World Series game being played in San Francisco that night. I was in my second year of seminary and I was watching the game in the basement of Alexander Hall, with a bunch of other students, some of whom from the Bay area. All of a sudden, the picture on the screen started shaking, and the announcers tried to explain what was going on – we were watching the effects of an earthquake live.

          When the quake subsided, I remember watching an interview with one of the players – I don’t remember who it was. But he had been one the players who ran out onto the field and was frantically searching the bleachers. In the interview, he said that he did that because his family and young son were at the game that night and he needed to see that they were okay. Then he said, “Baseball just didn’t seem that important.”

          It was an interesting comment from a professional baseball player about to play in a World Series game. His whole life had been working up to this moment, to these few games. He might never get this opportunity again. Before the earthquake, he probably would have ranked this among the most experiences in his life. And then the ground shook, and his priorities and perspective changed. Suddenly the most important thing in his life, didn’t seem so important anymore.

          Events can intrude upon us that force us to re-evaluate and perhaps reorganize our priorities in life. What seemed most important to us – like work, sports and making a living, can take a backseat sometimes.

          I think that happened in April 1999, as we watched the school shooting unfold at Columbine. Life changed after that. Going to school and what that meant changed forever. And we’re still dealing with the aftershocks.

          I think that happened during the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks. Life changed forever. Suddenly our priorities were different. The control we thought we had over life, suddenly gets up-ended.

          I wonder if we have a similar moment in Mark’s passage this morning. Sometimes we think of Jesus as the one who strolls around through the beautiful Galilean countryside, offering teachings and sayings and parables to those who come out to hear him. He offers his compassionate touch when he heals people and sometimes you might get a picnic of bread and fish for coming out to see him. But Mark paints a scene with a bit more urgency than we sometimes expect.

          Mark announces the arrival of Jesus saying that Jesus was proclaiming the goodness of God. Mark uses an interesting word here as he re-works the word usually used to describe an important announcement from the Empire. Right from the start, Mark positions Jesus as the harbinger to a new kind of empire, a new kind of kingdom, coming into existence right under the noses of the all-powerful Roman Empire.

          “The time is fulfilled,” says Jesus. “The kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe the good news.”

          Notice that Jesus did not say – “The Kingdom of God is here.” No, he said, “has come near,” meaning it is not here yet, the Kingdom of God is not fully present. It remains our ultimate destination, the goal towards which we work – but it isn’t fully here yet.

          In the novel Windows of the Heavens, by Henry Brinton, a Methodist pastor named Harley Camden reads his congregation a line from the book of Revelation: “The angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life… and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”

          Then Harley turns to his congregation and says, “Begin with the end in mind.”

          “Today’s scripture is the end of the story,” he says. “It is the goal to which God is moving, from the first day of creation to the end of time… God wants there to be harmony between water and cities, and between plant life and human developments… The city and the river and the tree of life all live in harmony. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”

          Harley pauses to let that message sink in, and says: “Begin with the end in mind.” (1)

          J.K. Rowling did that when she began writing the Harry Potter books. Rowling made pages and pages of notes on all the characters and their backgrounds. She always knew that Harry’s story would begin with Hagrid bringing Harry to Hogwarts, and she always knew what her ending scene would be. Not to give away too much – but she knew that Hagrid would be the one to carry Harry back to Hogwarts. She began with the end in mind.

          So, let’s keep the end in mind as we begin the story of what it means to follow Jesus. The time is fulfilled. The Kingdom has come near. And the Kingdom will come near again at the end of the story. But for now, Jesus begins calling his disciples to join him on the journey.

          He starts with Simon and Andrew, doing what they do every day. They are fishing, working hard to support themselves and their families. It’s what they have done every day of their lives. Jesus interrupts their humdrum, normal routine and says, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” At this point Mark breaks out one of favorite phrases – “Immediately.” Immediately they left their nets and they followed him. There is an urgency about this story as Mark tells it. He presents this as one of those moments that come out of the blue and re-prioritize your life. This is the kind of moment when the earth shakes and what you thought was important doesn’t seem so important anymore.

          Next up, a little farther down the beach, Jesus stumbles into the lives of two brothers, James and John. They are fishermen as well – they are in the boat mending their nets. Immediately Jesus called to them and they dropped their nets and followed him. Again – an urgent moment of decision. As Mark presents it – you’re either in or out, there is no time to think about. All four of these fishermen could feel the earth move, they could sense that this was a moment when nothing else was more important than this decision. This is the moment when their lives were re-prioritized. The most important thing was not working and making a living – it now becomes following Jesus and committing themselves to a whole new way of life – today – now – as soon as possible.

          Years ago, a couple in a Bible study group shared a story from their own lives that demonstrates what can when the new reality of Christ’s love intrudes on our lives. This couple was in the habit of leaving notes for each other all over the house. That’s not unusual – a lot of us do that. We have a sticky note on our kitchen counter that is running grocery list of everything we need. But these folks left notes for each other that said things like “I love you” or “I’m thinking of you.”

          One day a plumber was doing some work for them and he happened to see some of their notes. He asked about them and the couple said that was just their way of letting each other know how they felt. Well, this plumber thought that was a pretty good idea and he decided he wanted to try that at home.

          So, one day he left a few notes around his house for his wife and kids, telling them how much he loved them and how much he missed them. he went about his day, anxious to get home and see his family’s reaction to his notes.

          When he walked through the door after work, his wife, his son and daughter were all sitting at the dining room table looking very serious and concerned.

          “Honey, are you Ok? You left all these notes for us. We’re concerned. Are you dying?” (2)

          The new reality of love breaking into our lives can be a little shocking. When Jesus calls us to follow, we may be a little shocked by what that entails, and it may catch people off guard.

          Paul once wrote some words that many have found troublesome over the years:

          “From now on, let even those who have wives be as though they had none, and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing, and those who buy as though they had no possessions, and those who deal with the world as though they had no dealings with it. For the present form of this world is passing away.”

          In answering the call of Jesus, life changes. All normal expectations no longer apply. The world expects itself to be constantly buying and selling, working hard and taking care of ourselves. We know that realistically, we still engage in buying and selling, grieving and rejoicing, working and playing. Those things are a necessarily part of life. But only a PART of life. They are not LIFE itself. Are life is to be found in God – who gives us the Divine self through his Son. That’s the Kingdom coming near – Jesus being here with us.

          The German theologian Helmut Thielicke once wrote:

“At the beginning of World War Two, I stood in the bell tower of St Katherine’s Church in Danzig with the church organist. He sat down at the keyboard of the carillon to play a hymn on the hour. His mighty proclamation of the gospel rang out over the whole town. The bells beat upon my ears and the sound of their message so filled me that no other sound could intervene.”

          “Far below, though, I could see people going about their business. They were building an air-raid shelter. The excavator clattered, drills hammered away and traffic surged along. No one looked up to listen to the music that was pounding in my ears and filling me to the brim. What sounded all around us up above remained inaudible down there amidst the noise of daily work.”

          “Have we heard the sound that comes from above? We certainly cannot stop our machines. Nor should we try. But we can pay attention to the sound that filters through our earthly noise. For the air is full of promises, and we would lose everything is we failed to hear them.” (3)

          Today, once again we begin our journey of discipleship.

          Today is the day to listen to the voice of Jesus calling us to join him.

          Today we begin with the end in mind.

          The time is fulfilled. The Kingdom of God has come near.

          We are invited to join Jesus on the journey of discipleship

          May God be praised. Amen.

 1. Homileticsonline, retrieved 1/4/24.

2. Robert Elder, “Time’s A-Wasting”, Sermons on the Gospel Readings Cycle B, CSS Publishing Inc., 2008, p 72.

3. Resources for Preaching and Worship, Year B, edited by Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild, Westminster John Knox Press, 2002, p 51.

01-07-2024 The One Who is to Come

Thomas J Parlette
“The One Who is to Come”
Mark 1: 1-11
1/7/24

          Today we close out the Christmas season with Epiphany that celebrates the light that has come into the world, as we look forward to the Baptism of the Lord and a fresh journey toward Jerusalem and ultimately the cross. We marked Epiphany yesterday by “un-decorating” the church and putting away all the Christmas trees and garland and poinsettias and boxing up the decorations and nativity scenes for another year.

          A friend and colleague of mine in Iowa likes to tell the story of how a volunteer, who was soliciting help from the congregation with taking down Christmas decorations, was telling people, “Well, it’s time to make the church look plain again.”

          My friend overheard this and offered an amendment, “You mean, beautifully elegant and simple again.”

          The volunteer recruiter thought about it, and said, “No, I think plain says it all.”(1)

          That’s how a lot of people feel about this time of year. A little drained from the holiday madness. A little tired of the frenzy that can dominate this time of year. The holidays are over, let’s move on. Here in Minnesota, these cold, dark winter days and nights are the perfect time into enter into our own version of hibernation.

          But this morning, there is good news for all the tired and weary souls who might be a little down in this post-holiday lull.

          Our text from Mark kicks off what we refer to as “Ordinary Time” in the lectionary calendar. Mark begins his gospel with the bold proclamation – “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”

          People are hungry for good news these days. Perhaps you remember John Krasinski’s You Tube show “Some Good News.” It premiered during the isolation days of the COVID shutdown on March 29th, 2020. Eight episodes were made, at least three of which you can find on YouTube. The show focused on good news, feel good stories, stories about compassion and empathy, love and joy. On one show, they even live-streamed a prom that couldn’t happen in person, but was still enjoyed by all who tuned in. Back in 2020, we were all starving for some good news.

          That really hasn’t changed too much. There is still a hunger for good news. In fact, I still subscribe to a mailing called “Nice News” that focuses on uplifting stories to let subscribers know that not everything is dark in our world. There are still good people doing nice things. There is still light breaking into our darkness.

          Perhaps this hunger for good news is what drew people out to the desert to hear John the Baptist. John spoke about the need for repentance, but also the assurance of forgiveness. Change your ways now – for the one who is to come, the Messiah, God’s Son, the one true light, is on the way. I baptize you with water, but the one who is coming will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.

          This need to change and be forgiven, this hunger for good news, must have struck a chord, because people from all walks of life came from as far away as Jerusalem to hear John and be baptized in the waters of the Jordan river.

          Then Jesus arrives, seeking to be baptized. As Mark tells the story, “The heavens were torn apart and the Spirit descended like a dove on him.”

          Mark has presented the idea of John as the new Elijah, by describing his clothing and his diet and his living in the wilderness – all his listeners would have connected the dots that this John represented Elijah. In Isaiah 64, the prophet prayed that God would “tear open the heavens and come down”, and in chapter 43, we hear the promise of “a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” And here at the beginning of Mark’s gospel, those promises are answered. God tears through the barrier separating earth from heaven and comes to us in the wilderness.

          This idea of the wilderness must be important to Mark, because he mentions twice. It isn’t too difficult to see the wilderness or the desert as a metaphor for life. Sometimes our lives can feel like a wilderness where challenges are all around us, nothing is easy and surprises, both good and bad, lie just up ahead on our winding trails. Sometimes our wilderness life can feel dry and parched like the desert where John lived and preached.

          The good news on this first Sunday of Epiphany is that God has broken into our WORLD like a light in the darkness. And in the baptism of Jesus breaks into our LIVES, and descends like a dove.

          So why does God tear through the barriers of heaven and earth on this baptism day? God breaks in to offer some words of assurance.

          Notice how Mark presents these words from heaven. They are directed to Jesus in a very personal way – “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” This is God dropping Jesus off at college at the start of a new phase of life – that’s the feel here.

          Luke follows Mark’s lead and presents the voice from heaven speaking directly to Jesus as well.

          In Matthew, the voice from heaven is more like a proclamation to the crowd – “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” The essence is the same, but the tone is a little different. It sounds more like an introduction for a key note speaker at a conference than a personal conversation.

          In John’s gospel, we find something very different as John sees the Spirit descend on Jesus while John was baptizing others in the Jordan. John himself stand off to the side and points out Jesus as the Lamb of God. As readers, we look over John’s shoulder as he explains to us who Jesus is – but we never actually see Jesus enter into the waters of the Jordan.

          The good news for us in this story as Mark tells it is that God breaks into our world and says these words to us as well. Since we were grafted onto the body of Christ in our own baptism, we can take God’s words to heart. When God says to Jesus, “YOU are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased,” God says that to us as well. That’s what it means when we say that as Christians we are adopted as Children of God in our baptism. God says to us, “YOU are my child, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

          The heavens will open again in Mark. There will again be talk of tearing, and of Elijah, and of the love between Father and Son. It happens at the hinge of Mark’s story, in the Transfiguration. And it happens again near the end, at the cross, when even the imperial powers get caught up in declarations of divine love – but those are stories for the coming days. For most of the gospel this love lives out of sight, like a seed growing secretly, unseen. Only the demons know who Jesus is. The disciples stumble along, forever forgetting what they have seen and heard and getting it all wrong. The heavens seem not torn open, but sealed and silent – as they do so much of the time even today. (2)

          The Baptism of the Lord is a great day to celebrate the tearing open of the heavens and the words spoken to us by God. The coming stretch of Ordinary time will carry us into the hard work of discipleship, when the will of God can seem so elusive and the power of God so absent. But before Mark takes us on that journey, his Gospel gives us a moment to taste and see and hear the goodness of the Lord. (2)

          So this morning, I invite you to remember your own baptism as we gather around the Lord’s table. As you come forward to receive communion, I invite you to reach into the baptism fount and take a shell to remind you that you are a child of God. And God is well pleased with you, just as you are.

          May God be praised. Amen.

1. Mary Pugh, Connections: Year B, Vol. 1, Westminster John Knox Press, 2020, p 181.

2. Ted A. Smith, Feasting on the Word: Year B, Vol. 1, Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p 241.

3. Ibid… p 241.

12-24-2023 A Christmas Lullaby

Thomas J Parlette
“A Christmas Lullaby”
A Story by Dan Schrom (1)
12/24/23, Christmas Eve

          She sat at her desk with pen in hand, putting the finishing touches on the anthem she had spent so long completing. This would be her greatest work, her magnum opus – she was sure of it. Note by note, word by word, stanza by stanza, she reviewed the anthem. “Everything must be right,” she thought. “Everything must be perfect.”

          Her name was Chara. She was the angelic choirmaster. Her name literally meant “joy”, and it was an appropriate name for her. Over the centuries, the songs her choir of angels sang to women and men of faith brought joy to their hearts, even in the midst of hopeless and desperate situations.

          Chara was interrupted by a knock at her chamber door, and she responded with a slightly annoyed, “Come in.”

          The door slowly swung open and there stood Gabriel. Chara and Gabriel had worked closely together during recent months. When Gabriel was given an especially important assignment from the Lord, he often came to Chara to ask her to write a special song of praise or rejoicing. Songs had already been written for Elizabeth and Zechariah. She was especially proud of the song she had composed for Mary – people were calling The Magnificat, high praise indeed. Now she was preparing the greatest of all heavenly anthems – the one announcing the birth of the Messiah.

          “Gabriel, my friend, what can I do for you?”

          “Dear Chara, I am checking to see how the anthem is coming, answered Gabriel, with a touch of apprehension in his voice. He could not remember when so much of Chara’s time had been consumed by one assignment.

          Chara smiled an exhausted smile and held up a golden scroll. “It is finished. The choir begins rehearsal tomorrow.”

          Gabriel smiled broadly. “Wonderful,” he said, half excited, and half relieved. “Just wonderful. Well, I’ll let you get back to your work.”

          With that, Gabriel left Chara’s chamber.

          Chara sat embracing the scroll upon which she had written her angelic anthem. She tried to imagine what it would be like to lead the choir in her finest composition. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace.” Chara wondered where the choir would be assigned to sing these words of rejoicing.

She imagined her choir of angels hovering over the temple in Jerusalem. Imagine the look of amazement on the faces of the priests when the birth of the Messiah was announced. The magnificent temple would be overshadowed by the splendor of her angelic choir.

          Or perhaps the Lord God had chosen to have her choir overwhelm the sense of the emperor himself and his court in Rome. The one who had the audacity to claim to be a god himself would be quaking in royal robes at the news that God’s son had been born. And what a splendid sight it would be to gaze upon the newborn Messiah! Surely the beauty of his royal nursery would be breathtaking, revealing his glorious heritage. Kings and Queens of all nations would fall to their knees before in fear and trembling. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace.” Yes, it would be a glorious moment indeed.

          Chara’s thoughts were interrupted when her chamber door slowly began to open, and she heard Gabriel’s voice calling to her. She invited in and asked, “What brings you back so soon?”

          “Dear, dear Chara” – uh-oh, she knew she was in trouble right away. A double “dear” before her name always meant Gabriel was about to ask a big favor. “When I came to your chamber before, it was to tell you of another assignment. I was so excited to hear that you completed your anthem, I forgot to ask…”

          “Another assignment/ Wait a minute. I have worked day and night for weeks on this anthem, I begin rehearsals tomorrow; I’m running short on time, and you come with another assignment? Gabriel, you ask too much.”

          “It is not my request,” said Gabriel. “This assignment comes from the very top.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “from the Lord God.”

          Chara looked startled and said nothing for a few moments. Then in a soft, measured voice, she asked, “What does the Lord God want me to do?”

          “A lullaby,” answered Gabriel. “The Lord God wants you to write a lullaby to calm and comfort the newborn king.”

          ‘A lullaby,” said Chara. She thought for a moment and her wrinkled brow gave way to a half-smile. “A lullaby,” she repeated, letting herself get used to the idea. Now there was a touch of delight in her voice. “Please tell the Lord God that it would be my honor to write a lullaby for the new born king.”

          Gabriel, a little startled by the ease with which he had delivered the message and received a response, left without a word.

          A lullaby,” Chara repeated to herself. A lullaby for Mary to sing to her newborn son as she rocks him to sleep for the first time. “What a privilege,” she said out loud and was startled by the sound of her own voice. She reached for another scroll and slowly began to write a lullaby fit for the Son of God.

          Weeks passed. The choir of angels was weary due to the marathon practices Chara had demanded of them. The lullaby was ready to bring comfort and reassurance to the newborn king. All that remained were the final instructions from the Lord God and the great event would unfold.

          When the moment finally arrived, all the participants were assembled together. There was Chara, standing straight and tall in front of her choir, beaming with anticipation as Gabriel entered the Assembly Hall. Gabriel raised his arm, clearly displaying a golden scroll in hand. All grew silent when they saw the royal seal, meaning these instructions had come from the very hand of God. Ceremoniously, Gabriel broke the seal and began to read. He said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the scroll for what seemed like an eternity.

          Finally, Chara could not contain herself any longer. “What is our destination, Gabriel? Where are we going? Please tell us – is it Jerusalem?”

          “No, not Jerusalem.” Gabriel muttered.

          Chara’s eyes lit up. “Then it’s Rome, isn’t it? We’re going to the very center of the earthly empire to make our birth announcement.”

          “No, it’s not Rome. We are going,” Gabriel paused for just a moment, “to Bethlehem.”

          “Bethlehem?” blurted out Clara. “But Gabriel, there’s nothing in Bethlehem, nothing but sheep and shepherds.”

          Chara hoped her worst fears were unfounded, but the look in Gabriel’s eyes heightened her concern.

          Gabriel read the royal decree to the whole heavenly host with clarity and confidence. “You shall go to Bethlehem to announce the birth of the Messiah to the shepherds watching over their flocks. Thus declares the Sovereign Lord.”

          Chara tried to hide her disappointment, but her scowl gave away her emotions. Gabriel looked her straight in the eye and walked her direction. He stopped a few feet in front of her. “I know you’re disappointed,” he whispered. “I’m as surprised as you, but maybe this will make up for it.” Gabriel reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a small scroll containing the royal seal. “You are to deliver this personally.”

          The lullaby. In all the excitement, surprise and disappointment, Chara had forgotten about the lullaby. But just as she was about to open it, an archangel arrived from the presence of God to declare, “It is time. Fulfill your assignment to the glory of Almighty God.”

          Chara hurriedly tucked the little scroll in her robe. She turned to give orders to her angelic choir who nervously assembled and prepared for their all-important performance. The plan was this – Gabriel would precede them, announcing the good news of great joy for all people. After the announcement, Chara would move the choir into position to sing their heavenly anthem to the glory of God and in celebration of the holy birth.

          When they arrived in Bethlehem, Chara was disappointed to discover that their audience consisted of just 11 shepherds – not what she had in mind. It was growing late by earthy calculations, and half of them were asleep. The others were wandering around, not too far from the campfires, making sure the sheep were safe. At the sight of Gabriel and the glory of the Lord that surrounded him, the shepherds nearly jumped out of their skins. Those that had been asleep awoke with a start. One tried to jump to his feet, but got caught up in his robe and tripped, falling face first to the ground as if he’d been tackled. Another one shrieked and ran off into the night. Those who were left fell to their knees in terror.

          “Do not be afraid,” declared Gabriel – but it was too late. The shepherds were visibly shaking. “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.” He told them that the Savior, the long-awaited Messiah, had been born that very day in their town of Bethlehem. They would know they had found him when they discovered a newborn wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

          “Swaddling clothes?” Chara whispered to herself. “A manger? You got to be kidding me – This can’t be right.” The Messiah, the Savior, the Son of God should be born in a palace and laid in a crib made of gold – not a simple feed trough for animals.

          While Chara struggled with this strange good news, she almost missed her cue. Just in the nick of time she regained her composure and moved her choir into place. At the very first note of the heavenly anthem, the shepherds, whom Gabriel had managed to half-way calm down, went into another panic. Those who had managed to stand up, once more fell to the ground. The anthem continued, but Chara wondered if the tiny audience even heard a note of it. As the choir sang the final stanza, Chara motioned for all to depart. Suddenly the shepherds were alone in the dark and the silence, their hearts pounding, and their heads filled with strange and wonderful good news.

          Chara thanked her choir for their fine performance and the choir members quickly dispersed, as confused as their choirmaster. Chara was about to return to her chamber when she felt the little scroll she had tucked in her robe. “The lullaby, I almost forgot. I must go and teach the lullaby to Mary to sing to the new born Messiah.”

          Chara made her way back to Bethlehem and found the house where Mary and Joseph were staying. To her surprise, the shepherds were there too. Apparently, despite all the confusion, they had gotten the message and had come to witness this miraculous event.

          Chara prepared to approach Mary and whisper the lullaby in her ear, so she could sing it to her child, but she was distracted by the entrance of a man and a little girl. The man bowed before Joseph and said, “Excuse me sir, we live just across the way. My daughter Rebekah found out about the birth of your child and would like to see him. Please excuse her silence, but she can neither hear nor speak. She has been that way since birth. May she just take a quick peek at the baby and then we will leave you.”

          Mary nodded and Joseph invited her to come take a peek. The girl looked up at her father and, with an approving smile, he nudged her forward. Slowly, she approached the manger that had become a cradle. She gazed with wonder at the tiny baby lying in a manger. Though she did not utter a sound, the look on her face spoke volumes. She had not received an angelic birth announcement like the shepherds or heard Chara’s anthem sung by the choir of angels. Yet, the wonder in her eyes and the joy upon her face declared that she somehow realized the specialness of this moment. That’s when Chara moved forward, silently, invisibly, as only angels can, to teach her the lullaby. But instead of whispering in Mary’s ear – she whispered into the ears of the little girl who could not hear, at least she could not hear human words. Chara began to sing the lullaby into the silent little girl’s ears. And suddenly, to the amazement of all, the child began to repeat the song, word by word, note by note, line by line. When the last note had been sung, Chara gave the little girl an angelic kiss, and melted away into the night.

          A quiet knock announced that someone was at Chara’s door. She sat silently in her chamber and did not acknowledge the visitor. After several more knocks, the door opened and there stood Gabriel.

          “Chara is something wrong – why didn’t you answer the door?”

          Chara looked visibly shaken. “I think I made a big mistake Gabriel.” She held out the little golden scroll with the royal seal. “I know I was to teach the lullaby to Mary, but I didn’t. I taught it to someone else.”

          Gabriel stepped forward and took the scroll. “Chara, I can tell by the unbroken seal, you did not read this.” So Gabriel broke the seal, opened it, and read it. He looked at Chara, then the scroll, then at Chara again. “It says nothing here about teaching the lullaby to Mary. Here, read it for yourself.”

          Chara took the scroll and read: “Teach the lullaby prepared for the Messiah to the child Rebekah, whom I have invited.”

          A smile broke over Chara’s face as she finally understood. The newborn Messiah had not come into the world to impress high priests or visit emperors. He had come for the sake of the humble everyday people, those who struggle, are frightened or who have obstacles to overcome. And, on this holy night, it was clear he had come into the world for a little girl who could hear angels sing – whose childlike wonder and faith resulted in a surprising Christmas Lullaby.

          So on this Christmas Eve, let us be attentive to the angels song.

          “Praise be to God, Christ the Savior is born.”

          Shall we pray…
 

1. Dan Schomer, “A Christmas Lullaby” Beyond the Tinsel: Short Stories for Christmas Eve, Resource Publications, 2021.

12-24-2023 On the Brink of Christmas

Thomas J Parlette
“On the Brink of Christmas”
Luke 1: 26-56
12/24, 10:00 am only
 

          As we stand on the brink of Christmas this morning, we have the unique opportunity to hear the story of Gabriel visiting Mary on the same day when we will gather later to remember Jesus’ birth.

          Usually, the story of the Annunciation and Mary’s Magnificat get separated by at least a few days – but not this year. This year we get the whole story over the course of one day.

          The story of this intimate, yet potentially terrifying story is one of the most beloved in the Bible. I wonder, why do we love it so much? Is it the angel coming forward to announce that God intends to break into our messy world? Or is it Mary’s courage in saying “Let it be with me as you say,” that is so appealing? I’m not sure.

          Throughout the centuries, artists have rendered the annunciation scene in very formal strokes, preserving Mary and the angel Gabriel for posterity in wood, paint and glass. While their styles and colors have varied, Mary is always the picture of femininity, dressed in silk or brocade - usually blue, with her golden hair woven like a crown around her head. She always looks very composed and serene – not at all like what we might expect a girl in her early teen years to look. She was probably between 13 and 15 years old, with almost no experience with men, or angels or the world for that matter.

         She is usually shown spinning or reading at her prayer desk, absorbed in her work, when out of nowhere comes this magnificent angel, beautifully dressed with a tiara on his head or a garland of flowers studded with flames. In most pictures the feathers of his giant spread wings are white, but I at least one medieval painting they are the feathers of peacock, all iridescent greens and blues. In his hand, he might have a lily, an olive branch, or a royal scepter – signs of the purity, peace and authority he brings from above.

         Somewhere in the annunciation scene you can usually find a dove, a sign that what is happening is under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, but down below, everything depends on Mary. Gabriel is not standing over her; he is kneeling in front of the girl upon whose answer he, and God, and the whole creation depend. (1)

         There are some legends that have arisen over the years around this beloved story. For instance, in Nazareth, where these events took place, there is a local tradition that has Gabriel appearing to Mary at a well, as she is fetching water. At first, she is terrified by her angelic visitor and she ran back home, with Gabriel following close behind, trying to finish his message. Perhaps that explains why Gabriel tells her, “Do not be afraid, Mary.” (2)

         There is yet another legend that Mary was not the first person asked to be the God-bearer, but rather she was the first to say “Yes.” (3)

         Then again – did Gabriel actually ask her a question? When you read the text carefully, there is no question. There doesn’t seem to be an obvious choice to make. The angel TELLS her what is going to happen. The angel doesn’t ask Mary if she would like to be the mother of God. Gabriel doesn’t appear to be asking her to sign a consent form here. No- Gabriel just tells her – this is what is going to happen. “You are going to conceive and bear a son and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and he will be called the Son of the Most High…”

         In response, Mary asks only one question – “How can this be?” It’s actually pretty amazing that she only asks one question. Don’t you think she’d have a lot more?

         Questions like:

         * Will Joseph stick around?

         * What will my parents say?

         * Am I going to be ostracized and maybe even stoned to death by my neighbors for sleeping around?

         * Will my pregnancy go alright?

         * What if I lose the baby?

         * Will it hurt?

         * Is someone going to be there when my time comes?

         * Will I know what to do?

         * Will I be a good mother?

         * Who will take care of us?

         All good questions. Questions all moms-to-be wonder about.

         Luke does not tell us that Mary asked any of these questions, at least not out loud. But I’ve always thought that this is one of times in scripture when there is a long pause. I don’t think Mary responded as quickly as we like to think. I think she sat in silence for a time as she pondered all this. After a while though, faithfulness triumphed over fear and she responded, “Let it be as you say.”

         Even though Gabriel tells her what is going to happen, there is still a choice here. Mary can embrace what is going to happen – or she can choose not to accept it. She could take hold of this unknown life the angel held out to her or she could defend herself against it as best she could.

         We’ve all had similar choices to be made – not on the scale that Mary was faced with, but we’ve all had choices laid before us that we could accept or ignore.

         We’re all familiar with the idea that we make our plans and God laughs. That saying used to bother me because it seemed like God might be laughing in derision – but I don’t think that anymore. Now I believe God laughs at our plans because God has some surprises for us that we don’t see coming.

         Sure, we can make a carefully laid out 10-year plan, but then life happens. We fall in love, a surprise baby comes along, an illness comes upon us or the economy turns. Terrible things happen and wonderful things happen, but we seldom know ahead of time exactly WHAT will happen to us. Like Mary, our choices often boil down to “yes” or “no.”

         Yes, I will live this life that is being held out to me – or, No, I will not. (4)

         If you decide to say no, you simply drop your eyes and refuse to look up until you know the angel has left the room and you are alone again. Then you smooth your hair and go back to your spinning or your reading or whatever it is that in most familiar to you and you pretend that nothing has happened. If your life begins to change anyway, you have several options. You can be stoic. You can refuse to accept it. You can put all your energy into ignoring it and insist that in spite of all the evidence that it is not happening to you. (5)

         If that doesn’t work, you can become angry, actively defending yourself against the unknown and spending all your time trying to get your life back the way it used to be. And then of course you can become bitter, comparing yourself to everyone that seems to have a better life than you. If you succeed, your life may not be an easy one, but you can rest assured that no angels will trouble you ever again. (6)

         Or, you can decide to say “Yes.” You can decide to take a risk. You can set everything else aside and listen to this strange creature’s strange proposal. You can decide to take part in a plan you did not choose, doing things you do not know how to do, for reasons you do not entirely understand. You can take part in a thrilling and dangerous scheme with no script and no guarantees. You can agree to smuggle God into the world inside your own body.

         Deciding to say “Yes” doesn’t mean that you are not afraid, by the way. It just means that you are not willing to let your fear stop you, that you are not willing to let your fear keep you locked in your room. So you say “Yes” to the angel and “Here I am, let it be with me according to your word.” (7)

         The Eastern Orthodox church thinks of Mary as the “god-bearer” – a translation of the Greek word “Theotokos.” The medieval theologian Meister Eckhart once wrote:

         “We are all meant to be mothers of God – God-bearers. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the Divine Son takes place unceasingly but does not take place within myself? And what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I cannot also be full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of God is begotten in us.” (8)

         When we say yes to being yet another “Theotokos”, we say “Yes” to bearing God into our messy and messed up world once more.

         If Meister Eckhart is right that we are all mothers of God, how is God asking us to bear God into our world?

         Can we say “Yes” to God’s intrusive, almost impossible sounding invitation?

         Can we say “Yes” to new horizons, new possibilities and new lives – for ourselves personally, and collectively as First Presbyterian Church?

         I hope so. As we stand on the brink of Christmas, I hope you will ponder these things in your heart. And as you do, know this:

         The Lord is with you. The Lord is with us. Do not be afraid. For nothing will be impossible with God.

         May God be praised. Amen.

1. Barbara Brown Taylor, “Mothers of God”, Gospel Medicine, Cowley Publications, 1995, p 164-165.

2. Katie Kirk, The Christian Century, December 2023, p 27.

3. James R. Luck Jr., Feasting on the Gospels, Westminster John Knox Press, 2014, p 16.

4. Barbara Brown Taylor, “Mothers of God”, Gospel Medicine, Cowley Publications, 1995, p 166.

5. Ibid… p 166-167.

6. Ibid… p 167.

7. Ibid… p 167.

8. Ibid… p 168.

11-26-2023 Come Listen to a Story 'bout a Man Named Henry

Thomas J Parlette
“Come Listen to a Story ‘bout a Man Named Henry”
Matthew 25: 31-46
11/26/23 

          Each year, I visit my doctor for no particular reason. I get my blood drawn, they run all sorts of tests and I go in for a wellness check-up. My blood pressure gets checked, my lungs, my oxygen rate, my weight – all that stuff. If my cholesterol comes back high, I know I’ve got to make some adjustments – eat more salads, more chicken, a few less “fun-size” candy bars, add a few more walks around the block or around the church hallways every hour or so. Same thing with those HDL and LDL numbers – bring the good one up and the bad one down.

          My wellness check is not something I enjoy, I often try to avoid it or put it off for awhile, but I know it’s necessary, and it might save my life – so I do it.

          In many ways, you could think of this passage from Matthew today as a wellness check.(1) This description of the final judgement often comes across as a threat, it has been used over the years to incite fear in those who hear about the judgement of the sheep and the goats. But there is also great comfort and assurance to be found here too.

          In many ways, Jesus is re-telling the passage we heard from Ezekiel. There we heard straight from God –“ I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out… I will rescue them… I will bring them out…I will feed them… I will seek the lost and I will bring back the strayed, I will bind up the injured and I will strengthen the weak, but the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them with justice…”

          And, yes, there will be judgment…

          “I will save my flock, and they shall no longer be ravaged; and I will judge between sheep and sheep. I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David…”

          Jesus tells much the same story, but instead, frames the judgment as coming from the Son of Man, when all nations will be gathered for a  great “Sorting.”

          There are two basic schools of thought about what that phrase “all the nations” means. Is it referring to a judgment of all non-Jews or does it include literally all the nations – Jews and Gentiles alike? Most scholars today lean toward this as a judgment of everyone – Jews, Gentiles, Christians, Muslims – everyone, of all nations, as it says.

          Either way, it seems clear that what we do matters. How we treat others matters more than how we view various doctrines and religions. This passage seems to be saying that we are saved by how we treat others. Which seems to be in direct conflict with what Paul tells us about being saved by grace alone. In the book of James, James leans very heavily into the idea of good works – he would probably like Jesus story here today much more than Paul.

          We are saved by grace alone, as a gift that God gives us, not ne anything we do. But Jesus wants to make sure that we know that that doesn’t get us off the hook entirely. Yes – we are saved by grace. But, what we do matters. How we treat others, especially the least of these, is important.

          So, I invite you to “Come listen to a story ‘bout a man named Henry” – Henry James to be exact. Henry was only 20 years old in 1981 when, after helping a neighbor repair his car, he was misidentified as the man who had attacked that neighbor’s wife. Although the woman initially stated that she didn’t know her attacker, she later picked Henry – a neighbor with whom she was acquainted – from a photo line-up. The evidence that would have exonerated him – the results of serological that excluded him as the attacker – was not presented to the judge or jury by Henry’s court-appointed lawyer.

          Henry was tried, convicted, and sentenced to life in prison without parole for a crime he did not commit.

          For the next 30 years, Henry persevered through the harsh conditions of the Louisiana State prison at Angola. For about 10 of those years he labored in the prison fields, from sunup to sundown, picking cotton, potatoes, tomatoes, okra, cabbage, greens and other crops, earning a maximum of 4 cents an hour. (Because the 13th Amendment abolished slavery “except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted,” Angola’s is believed to be legal.) He tried to avoid any infraction that could land him in solitary confinement. For 30 years, he missed out on his children’s lives and on finding a vocation for himself.

          Unable to read or write well, Henry worked to teach himself those skills so that he could one day write to innocence teams to ask for help. Along the way he learned that he was a pretty good woodworker, able to craft a variety of furnishings. Word spread about woodworking abilities, and he was able to earn a few dollars to help his family.

          Henry was willing to toe the line and do whatever it took to prove his innocence, once and for all.

          By 2005 he’d heard of the Innocence Project and wrote to ask for help. The national organization, together with Innocence Project New Orleans, began the search for evidence in his case but were told that it had been lost. Neither Henry nor the Innocence Project gave up hope. By 2010, the Innocence Project filed a motion to compel a search for the missing evidence from Henry’s case. A Louisiana crime lab official named Milton Dureau searched for the evidence but turned up nothing.

          A year later, while searching for an evidence file for another case, Dureau stumbled upon Henry’s file and the evidence. The long-awaited DNA testing confirmed that Henry was not the attacker. On October 21st, 2011 – he was freed.

          With no money or even photo identification, and with only the few pieces of clothing he’d been given by the lawyer’s representing him, Henry found a home at a nonprofit called Resurrection after Exoneration, which provides transitional housing and supportive resources for 6 months to a year for newly released inmates. Resurrection specializes in the personal touch – it’s capacity is limited to 3 people at a time. Henry was the 15th person to reside there.

          Henry is, to date, the longest-serving prisoner to be exonerated in Louisiana. He had been inside a prison cell longer than he had been alive before he was imprisoned.(2)

          “Truly I tell you, as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me… Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

          Jesus leaves us with some stinging words that should function as a wellness check. How we treat others matter. Jesus challenges us to see him in the faces of our neighbors who may look different, speak a different language, or suffered in ways we cannot comprehend.

       Do we see all of our neighbors as family, interconnected with us to our Creator?
       Do we understand how our actions may shape the fate of a neighbor?
       Do we believe that the ways in which we respond to the needs of the suffering around us reflect the ways in which we respond to God.(3)

Our actions matter. How we treat others matters.

Henry James was freed because no one gave up – not Henry, not the Innocence Project, not that crime lab official who recognized evidence from Henry’s case when he stumbled upon the long lost file.

 Henry was freed because he was visited in prison. Henry was freed because lawyers listened and preserved in the search for evidence that could exonerate him. Henry was clothed because his legal team recognized he couldn’t get out of prison with just a couple of t-shirts and a pair of jeans. Henry was sheltered because a non-profit provided a true home for him – and time for him to be introduced to a society that he never got a chance to know.

Henry moved on to freedom because someone was able, at last, to look beyond accusations and see the face of Jesus in this neighbor, and refused to give up on him.(4)

When we read these hard words from Jesus today with trust in the faithful God that Ezekiel speaks about, the focus shifts from a prospect of damnation to the possibility of participation in the coming kingdom of heaven and eternal life. Ultimately, the lesson of the sheep and the goats is good news, because it asks us each to share precisely what we can in bringing justice and mercy to this world. That is the true center of this passage. Whether it is food and water, a compassionate ear or an open heart – everyone has something to share. Parishioners of all tenures – longtime members and visitors alike – should be enlivened by this passage – not threatened – for it calls us to serve in ways that are firmly within our grasp. (5)

We may not like warnings and wellness check, because, let’s be honest, they often mean we have to change some of our habits and recalibrate our lives. But they do help provide a critical overview of wellness – both physically and spiritually. We would be wise to listen.

May God be praised. Amen.

1. Lindsay P. Armstrong, Feasting On the Word, John Knox Press, 2011, p. 333.
2. Dorothy Sanders Wells, The Christian Century, November 2023, p. 27.
3. Ibid… p. 27.
4. Ibid… p.27.
5. Robert M. McClellan, Feasting On the Gospels, Westminster John Knox Press, 2013, p. 268.         

11-19-2023 Under the Palm of Deborah

Thomas J Parlette
“Under the Palm of Deborah”
Judges 4: 1-7
11/19/23
 

          We don’t hear much from the book of Judges. In fact, this is the only time anything from Judges makes it into our lectionary. Judges begins with Joshua and the conquest of Judah and documents a period of time when a variety of leaders led Israel against their enemies.

          Judges is actually not a great name for this book for the “judges” referred to are not legal authorities, they are not judges that sit in a courtroom, with black robes and gavels making decisions on points of law. They are instead advisors, counselors, and sometimes military strategists who lead Israel against their foes.

          After Moses and Joshua, the Israelites increasingly turned away from God and turned instead to idols and other Gods. The book of Judges documents the temptations and mis-steps that the Israelites made.  Judges is one of those books that is filled with violent stories of war and excessive violence. Along with Joshua, this is one of those books that cause people to say things like:

          “Let’s not study the Old Testament. There’s too much violence and killing.”

          Or, “I just don’t like the Old Testament. God is so wrathful and vengeful. I prefer the New Testament where God is love.”

          Or even, “How could God tell the Israelites to kill the Canaanites and all those other people? Didn’t Jesus tell us to love our enemies, not kill them.”

          That’s probably why we only hear from the book of Judges once in our three-year cycle. We tend to focus our attention on the New Testament, especially the Gospels.

          But we mustn’t forget that there is much more to our Bibles than Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and the letters of Paul. Even a casual reader soon realizes that the “Good Book” is really an eclectic collection of laws, letters, short stories, historical biography, poetry and prophecy. Even though it was written by many different people, with many different viewpoints over the course of hundreds of years, the Bible nevertheless hangs together as the story of God and Humanity.

          But since there are so many different kinds of stories in the Bible, different passages place different demands on us as listeners and interpreters. Some passages, for example, are just plain difficult to understand. Some stories just sit there on the page with their arms folded, lips tightly sealed, staring off into the distance while we try to figure out what they mean.

          Jesus putting that curse on an innocent fig tree – that’s a difficult story.

          Or the one in 2nd Kings about the bears mauling 42 youngsters because they made fun of Elisha’s receding hairline – that’s a tough one. I guarantee you won’t be hearing a children’s sermon on that one anytime soon.

          Other texts, though, place a burden not so much on our ability to understand as they do on our ability to carry them out. We understand well enough, but living by them is another story. Mark Twain once said that what troubled him about the Bible was not what he failed to understand, but rather what he understood quite clearly and yet failed to accomplish. For instance, Jesus said, “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other as well…” Have you ever tried to really out those words? It’s tough. The burden of such a passage is more in trying to follow the instructions than in figuring them out.

          Now there’s probably a third category here as well. There are some passages which place a burden on our ability to accept them. It isn’t a question of not understanding or not being able to follow through. The difficulty lies in the fact that, when you get right down to it, we simply don’t like the text. Such is the case with this story today. For whatever reason, the lectionary leaves off rather abruptly at the seventh verse. However, the story itself doesn’t conclude there, and to get a real sense of what a scandalous passage this is, one needs to read a bit further.

          Curiously enough, the story actually begins in a somewhat understated, almost casual, matter of fact fashion: “The Israelites again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord. So the Lord sold them into the hand of King Jabin of Cannan, where the commander of the army was Sisera.”

          At the time, “Deborah was judging Israel,” from under the palm that was named for her. Deborah was Israel’s only female judge, but it was hardly a token appointment. Like an ancient E.F. Hutton, when Deborah spoke – people listened. And from all accounts, she was forceful, but fair. She was courageous, and compassionate. She favored no one and was attentive to everyone.

          One day, Deborah summons Barak, Israel’s military leader, and insists that he start preparing for war against the mighty Canaanites. At first, Barak can hardly believe what he is hearing. After all, in the past, the Canaanite army, led by Jabin, had proven to be a rather powerful enemy – possessing 900 iron chariots. And they had history on their side – they had already been oppressing Israel for some 20 years.

          For awhile, Barak stands there with a puzzled squint, and when he finally does manage to stammer out a few words, they are punctuated with half-hearted reluctance: “If you will go with me, I will go – but if you won’t go, I’m not going.” Deborah agrees to go, but feels it’s only fair to warn him in advance that the bragging rights for this battle are not to be his. “The road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.

          A-HA! We of course assume that that woman will be Deborah herself. But as the battle draws to a close, with the Israelites victorious, we see Sisera running for the hills, seemingly to safety, leaving Deborah behind. Oh well, so much far prophecy.

          That night, however, Sisera meets a woman named Jael, just before he crosses the border. He accepts her hospitality and stays for food and drink and spends the night. But as Sisera sleeps, Jael creeps into his tent and kills him by putting a tent stake through his temple.

          Upon hearing the news, Deborah is as pleased as she can be, her predictions have come true. While she doesn’t exactly dance on Sisera’s grave, she does break out into a triumphant 31 verse song, glorifying the whole gruesome story.

          Now, I know it isn’t easy to be fond of a text like this. It’s a strange story. What makes it especially difficult is that we are called to accept the kind of God who would instigate a story like this.

          But then again, this isn’t the first time God has done something surprising, something we don’t anticipate. In fact, expecting the unexpected seems to be a common refrain in the story line of scripture.

          Who could have predicted what would happen to Abraham and Sarah. A couple in their golden years would have their wishes fulfilled with the arrival of their first child. Or, how about Jacob, a juvenile delinquent who grew up into a two-bit con man and known liar who would be chosen and blessed by God. Or, the great Moses, the stuttering fugitive, wanted for murder in Egypt, who would be chosen to lead the Hebrew people out of bondage and right to the edge of the Promised Land.

          And who have guessed that the Son of God would be born out of wedlock to a teenage mother. Nowadays, Mary would probably end up on daytime TV as evidence of “today’s troubled teens.”

          God is always doing something surprising, something unexpected. Working through people no one would choose, doing things no one could predict. And maybe that’s the point. After all, if we knew in advance what God would do, if we could calculate God’s goodness or deduce God’s plans – it wouldn’t be grace. Grace is supposed to be a surprise.

          The well-known preacher, Fred Craddock, enjoys sharing the story of the time he returned to the little church of his childhood. He had not visited there for years and walking into the sanctuary, he was surprised to see that they had purchased new stained glass windows. Inscribed at the bottom of each was the name of the donor – but to his dismay, Craddock was not familiar with any of them.

          “You must’ve had a good many people join this congregation since I was a boy,” he remarked to a woman after the worship service, “because I don’t recognize a single name.”

          “Oh those people aren’t members here,” she said. “This town hasn’t grown a bit, and for that matter, neither has our church.”

          “Then how did you get these beautiful windows?”

          “Well that’s kind of an interesting story. You see they were made by an Italian company for a church in St. Louis. Unfortunately, when they arrived, none of them fit. The company apologized of course, and said they would make new windows. But they were too expensive to ship back, so the company told the church in St. Louis to sell them wherever they could. We bought the windows from that church.”

          “But don’t you want to remove these names?”

          “Well, we thought about that. We’re just a little church you know. Not many of us here anymore, and never any new people. So we finally decided it was important for us to remember all those folks we’ll never meet, through whom the Lord is working in ways we’ll never know. And it’s nice to have a few new names around here at least. So, I guess, in a way, we have grown a bit.”

          A nice surprise indeed, when God works through people we’ll never meet to accomplish God’s plans for the church. J. Clinton McCann has written in his commentary on Judges that the reason we recount these stories, even the gory, unsettling ones, is that they serve as a warning grounded in hope. The book of Judges shows that when we do not worship and serve God, the results are destructive and ultimately deadly. But the point is that God is faithful and full of grace even when we are unfaithful.

          Jesus spoke of the surprising nature of grace, and ultimately it’s value when he told about finding a buried treasure, or a pearl of great value, and going right to the nearest ATM machine to withdraw all your money and purchase it. God’s grace is unpredictable and surprising. And ultimately of great value.

          That’s the way God’s grace works. Being unpredictable is part of the gift. It’s always meant to be surprising, because grace is never something we get on our own – grace is always freely given. Working at grace is like trying to fall in love – more often you can’t make it happen, it just happens. We can’t predict it any more than we can deserve it. We don’t expect it, we experience it. Small wonder that God’s ways sometimes appear so strange and incomprehensible. How could they be otherwise? After all, they are God’s ways, not ours.

          I’ll go with you,” Deborah tells Barak, “but the glory of this day shall not be yours.” Expect the unexpected.

          I admit, it’s not easy to like a story like this. But rather than asking whether we can live with a God who acts in such ways, perhaps a better question might be – Can any of us really afford to live without such a God. A God who remains faithful, even when we turn away. A God who gives us grace in such surprising and unexpected ways.

          May God be praised. Amen.

11-12-2023 Waiting with Eyes Wide Open

Thomas J Parlette
“Waiting with Eyes Wide Open”
Matthew 25: 1-13
11/12/23
 

          A number of years ago, someone gave me a copy of a poem about when the world was going to end. I tucked it away in my sermon folders and I dug it out as I thought about this passage for today. It says:

          “Absolute knowledge I have none,
          But my aunt’s housekeeper’s son
          Heard a policeman on his beat
          Say to a laborer on the street
          That he had a letter just last week
          Written in finest classical Greek,
          From a mystic in Timbuktu
          Who said the farmers in Cuba knew of a man in a Texas town
          Who got it straight from a circus clown
          That a man in the Klondike heard the news
          From a group of American Jews
          About somebody in Borneo
          Who heard a man claim to know of a miner named Jake,
          Whose mother in law will undertake to prove
          That her seventh husband’s sister’s niece
          Had stated in a printed piece
          That she had a son who has a friend
          Who knows when the world will end.”
 

The end of the world and when it will happen has been on people’s minds since the beginning of time itself. In particular, Christians have always been interested in Jesus’ second coming. When will Jesus come back? How will we know, what are the warning signs? Who is Jesus going to take with him and what will happen to those who have already passed away?

In our first reading we heard from Paul as he offered assurances to the church in Thessalonica that those living and those who have died “will be caught up in the clouds together to meet the Lord Jesus in the air.”

Then we heard from Jesus himself as he tells the parable of the Ten bridesmaids. Five were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones didn’t take any extra oil with them, while the wise ones made sure they had extra flasks of oil. The bridegroom was delayed – we don’t know why – and all of them fell asleep. Their lamps went out, and the foolish bridesmaids had to make a quick trip to the store, and while they were away, the bridegroom shows up and everybody goes into the wedding banquet and the doors are shut behind them. The foolish ones return and try to plead their way into the banquet, but the bridegroom isn’t having it – “Sorry, I don’t know you.”

The moral of the story – be prepared. Nobody knows the day or the hour. Christ’s return, the kingdom of heaven will arrive without warning, like a thief in the night. So be ready. Wait with your eyes wide open.

As we move deeper into fall, we in Minnesota are acutely aware of being prepared. Now is the time to start up the snow-blower and make sure it’s running okay. Now is the time to check our tires to make sure we’ve got enough tread for winter driving. Now is the time to dig out the winter coats, the hats, the gloves, the scarves and the boots. We don’t want to get caught off-guard when that first big snow comes.

I like the story about a Christmas parade in North Carolina. Many civic groups and school organizations would make floats on flatbed trucks and drive through town. One year a group of guys from a local fraternity entered a float that confused everyone. On the flatbed were about a dozen guys and a bunch of lumber and they were frantically sawing and hammering. Everyone wondered what kind of float this was. Puzzled expressions were everywhere in the crowd until the float passed by, and then laughter rang out as the crowd could see the sign hung on the back of the flatbed - “We thought the parade was next week!” (1)

Isn’t that always the way. We think there’s lots of time to prepare and get ready – but then all of a sudden the deadline is upon us. Either you’re ready or you’re not.

That’s what happened here to these five foolish bridesmaids – they weren’t prepared when the time came. They had one job to do, and a pretty important one at that in the days before electric lights. It was their job to be the bearers of the light for the wedding banquet – and you need to be prepared with extra oil to do the job.

We are also called to be light bearers. That is our one job. Jesus said as much when he said “You are the light of the World.” Until Jesus comes and the Kingdom of God arrives, we are to bear God’s light in this world – so we better be prepared.

You may have noticed that the anthem the choir sang this morning is “Keep your lamps trimmed and a burnin’, the time is drawing ‘nigh”. It is of course based on this parable. This spiritual originated with enslaved people in the South. For many of us, we focus much of our attention on that rather ominous ending, with the foolish bridesmaids pounding on the locked banquet hall door trying to gain entrance and the bridegroom saying “Sorry - I don’t know you.”

 But for enslaved people in the South, this parable must have brought more comfort than concern. In their labor, in their struggle, in their abject poverty, it must have been easy to identify with both the bridesmaids who were ready, patiently waiting for the bridegroom, and with the ones who had been denied access to the party.

Surely God would see their suffering and save them. Surely the true coming of God’s kingdom would be replaced with a world order in which suffering would end and peace and justice would be brought to God’s people. On that day, surely there would be balm for their troubled souls, healing for broken bodies and spirits, comfort in their mourning, and freedom from cruel bondage.(2) Notice the encouraging words of the refrain:

          “Sisters, don’t grow weary,
          Brothers, don’t grow weary,
          Children, don’t grow weary,
          For the time is drawing nigh”

Another version of this spiritual changes that last line just a bit to read:

          “While the work be done.”

That small shift implies that God is not passive, God is working, even as we wait.

Eugene Peterson is well-known giant in the spiritual world. He’s probably best known as the writer behind the paraphrase of the bible “The Message.” In addition to his celebrity status, he is also one of the slowest talking people I have ever heard. Peterson’s son was a classmate of him at Princeton Seminary, and Peterson used to give lectures every once in awhile when he came for a visit with his son. He points out that nothing ever happens quickly in the church, or in the world, and nothing happens quickly in the Bible either. But there is a kind of “apocalyptic patience” he says, that is a basic characteristic of God’s people. They hang in there. They stick it out. They are the kind of people who are “passionately patient, courageously committed to witness and work in the Kingdom of God no matter how long it takes, or how much it costs.

“They stay at it,” he says, “because they comprehend two basic realities of the spiritual life: Mystery and Mess. Faith deals “with the vast mysteries of God and the intricacies of the messy human condition. This is going to take some time. Neither the mysteries nor the mess is simple. If we are going to learn a life of holiness in the mess of history, we are going to have to prepare for something intergenerational and think in centuries.”

God is dealing with the Mess of the human situation: we are prone to sin, we get addicted to counterfeit gods, we poison our earth. We turn on each other. Those are glimpses of the Mess – and it’s going to take time to undo.” (3)

To wait with our eyes wide open is to be patient, and continue to bring God’s light to the world, while God deals with the mess of the human condition. It was the Jewish mystic Simone Weil who once said, “Waiting in patient expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life.” (4)

Frederick Buechner, another spiritual giant, put it another way:

“So to wait for Christ to come in his fullness is not just a passive thing, a pious, prayerful, churchy thing. On the contrary, to wait for Christ to come in his fullness is above all else to act in Christ’s stead as fully as we know how. To wait for Christ is as best we can to be Christ to those who need us to be Christ to them most and to bring them the most we have of Christ’s healing and hope because unless we bring it, it may never be brought at all.” (5)

So there is comfort and encouragement to be found in this story of 10 bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom to show up. Comfort because God is still acting in the messiness of life. And encouragement because eventually the bridegroom does arrive – and the wedding feast begins.

In the meantime, we wait with our eyes wide open – making sure we’ve got plenty of oil so we’re ready to do our job as light bearers in an often dark world.

May God be praised. Amen.

1. Stephen M. Crotts, “What if the End is Near” Sermons on the Gospel Readings” CSS Publishing, 2004, p385-386.
2. Dorothy Sanders Wells, “The Christian Century”, November 2023, p25.
3. Homileticsonline, retrieved 10/20/23.
4. Ibid…
5. Ibid…

11-05-2023 A Wake-Up Call

Thomas J Parlette
“A Wake-Up Call”
Matt. 23: 1-12
11/05/23

          If you’re involved in the leadership of the church in any way, whether it be as a pastor, church staff, elder, deacon or committee member – it’s hard not to squirm a bit upon hearing Jesus’ words today from Matthew 23. They are a wake-up call in no uncertain terms.

          In the previous chapters, Jesus has been engaged with a series of debates with the religious officials – the Pharisees, Herodians and Sadducees. Whenever we hear those groups mentioned, we immediately think – “Oh, the bad guys!” But in reality, these religious officials were the faithful, devout, church-going people of their day. They were not the priests, working in the Temple, they were the teachers of the Law. They are actually very much like us. It’s tempting to hear Jesus’ words as applying to someone else. But that is not Jesus’ intent. Notice that right there in verse 1, Jesus addresses the crowd, but also his own disciples. This wake-up call is meant for us, as well as the Pharisees and the scribes.

          Jesus starts out by acknowledging that the Pharisees and scribes are legitimate, they have authority – as they sit on Moses’ seat. Think of Moses’ seat as you would the endowed position at a major university. For instance, one of the authors we’ve studied during our Lenten study is Amy Jill-Levine – she occupies the Mary Jane Werthan chair as Professor of Jewish Studies Emerita at Vanderbilt Divinity School. Moses’ seat was similar – those who sat in the seat had authority to teach and explain the meaning of God’s law. Jesus acknowledges this and says “do whatever they teach you.” BUT – and it’s a big BUT – do NOT do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach.

          We’ve all been in that situation. You say one thing, but end up doing another. Anybody who has kids has probably been caught in that trap. You forget to use a turn signal when changing lanes, go a bit over the speed limit or coast through a stop sign, and a voice comes from the back seat – “Dad, I thought you said to always come to full stop at a stop sign.” Yes, yes, I know. Do what I say, not as I do. It happens to all of us.

          History is littered with examples of people whose actions do not match their words, in good ways and bad. The starkest contrast might come the time of the Crusades. As described in John Mann’s book from 2017, Saladin: The Sultan Who Vanquished the Crusades and Built an Islamic Empire, during the First Crusade from 1095 – 1099, the Christian knights who sought to free the Holy Land from the infidels did not at particularly Christlike.

          On July 15th, 1099, the months long siege of Jerusalem ended when the Crusaders, led by Godfrey of Buoillon, breached the defenses. Once they were in the city, the men who bore the sign of Christ on their breast plates mercilessly slaughtered all the inhabitants – men, women and children, Muslims and Jews. Eyewitness accounts tell of streets running with the blood of the dead. Even at a time of brutal warfare, the atrocities committed by the Crusaders drew criticism.

          Fast forward 90 years, and Saladin, the great Fatimid general, defeated the Crusaders in the Battle of Hattin in 1187. Saladin then moved on to take Jerusalem and, after a short siege, entered the city. The Christian inhabitants of Jerusalem were terrified; they remembered what the Crusaders had done in 1099 and thought that Saladin would take his revenge.

          However, Saladin was merciful. He granted amnesty to the Christians and set a low ransom price, which enabled the residents to leave the city. For those who were too poor to pay, Saladin forgave the ransom or paid it himself, much to his advisor’s chagrin. The Jews, who had been banished by the Christians, were invited to return to Jerusalem. Saladin did not even destroy the Crusader churches; instead, he repurposed them. Anyone who has been to Jerusalem and stood under the medieval arches of the Church of St. Anne has witnessed the work of Saladin. Though largely forgotten in the Muslim world until the 20th century, Saladin was hailed as the epitome of chivalry in medieval Europe and celebrated for his bravery, his wisdom, and his generosity. (1)

          Both the Crusaders and the Muslims talked a good game when it came to following God’s laws and showing mercy, but actually practiced what they taught. The Christian faith is more than a set of words or ideas – it is a way of acting in the world. That is the wake-up call Jesus is talking about here. Yes, listen to the teachers, but do not do what they do, because they do not practice what they teach.

          After a long list of examples of the kind of selfish activities that he’s taking about, Jesus offers up the real kicker – “The greatest among you will be your servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

          There is a fine French restaurant in Cleveland, Ohio, called EDWINS. The place is known for its duck confit and rabbit pie, but it is not just the food that is extraordinary. Brandon Chrostowski is the owner and head chef; he is also a convicted drug dealer. Chrostowski discovered for himself how difficult it is to get a job when you have a criminal conviction. Many employers simply reject any applicant with a  record. So Chrostowski decided to open a restaurant that would serve more than food. He wanted to open a restaurant that would also serve his fellow ex-convicts. The mission of EDWINS is to give formerly incarcerated adults a foundation in the culinary and hospitality industry, while providing a support network necessary for their long-term success. Thus, EDWINS Leadership and Restaurant Institute was born.

          Chrostowski struggled to get financial support for his venture. Many foundations thought his business model was too risky; turning convicted criminals into chefs and waiters seemed like a recipe for disaster. After years of rejection, Chrostowski finally cobbled together enough money to launch the Institute, and it has been a wild success. Since 2013, hundreds of people have graduated from the EDWINS program. They have a 97 percent employment rate and a 1 percent recidivism rate. The Institute has won dozens of awards and has been hailed as a new model for social entrepreneurship, but the statistics and awards don’t tell the whole story.

          The story of EDWINS was turned into a short documentary called Knife Skills, which was nominated for an academy award in 2017. The film follows a group of students from the first day of class to graduation. At first, the students tell depressing tales of poverty, incarceration and rejection – but by the end of the course, they have a sense of accomplishment, pride and hope. The final scene in the graduation ceremony, and one man leans in to Chrostowski and says, “Thanks for believing in us.”

          At first, no one wanted to invest in EDWINS, and now it is hard to get a table on a Friday night. Chrostowski doesn’t claim to be a Christian, but it’s hard to deny that he is displaying the kind of humble servant leadership that Jesus talks about. He often says, “Everyone has a past, and everyone deserves a future” – sounds a lot like grace to me. (2)

          As we gather around the table on this All Saints Sunday, we are not alone. A great cloud of witnesses joins us, witnesses that tried to live life in humble servant leadership. Let us strive to follow their example – for the greatest among us will be a servant. All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.

          May God be praised. Amen.

1. Shawnthea Monroe, Connections, Year A, Volume 3, Westminster John Knox Press, 2020, p 351.
2. Ibid… p 370-371.

10-29-2023 Another Batch of Trick Questions

Thomas J Parlette

“Another Batch of Trick Questions”

Matt. 22: 34-46

10/29/23

           Today we are once again in the Gospel of Matthew, and we have before us another batch of trick questions. Perhaps “trick” questions is the wrong phrase – maybe challenging questions would be better. They are, at the very least “head-scratchers.”

          Last week, the Pharisees sent some of their disciples, along with some of the Herodians to ask Jesus a question designed to trap him. Jesus was faced with the question of whether or not to pay taxes to the Emperor. But he managed to avoid the trap and instructed the people to give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor – but give to God the things that belong to God.

          Next up, a group of Sadducees approach Jesus with a rather ridiculous hypothetical question about a woman who remarries a bunch of brothers after each brother passes away – wondering whose wife she will be in the after-life. Again Jesus doesn’t answer directly, but instead points out that God is the God of the living, not the dead.

          Finally, we come back to the Pharisees, who gather together and select one of their group, a lawyer, to ask Jesus another question – a question intended to “test” him. There are some interesting word choices that Matthew uses here.

          First, the word for “lawyer” – nomikos – is unique. This is the only time Matthew uses this term. (1) When Mark tells this same story, he describes the questioner as just a scribe, but Matthew intentionally changes it to a lawyer, upping the stakes a bit and building up the tension.

          Then there’s the word Matthew uses for “test”, in Greek, peirazo. Matthew only uses that word four other times, always in reference to either the Devil, or the Pharisees. (2)  So, we know that Matthew is portraying this scene as a menacing one – this lawyer is trying to trip Jesus up and lure him into a trap.

          After some more insincere flattery, by calling Jesus “Teacher,” the lawyer gets to his question – “Which commandment in the law is greatest?”

          This was, and still is, a very common practice for Rabbi’s to summarize the law. There are after all, 613 commandments in scripture. There was a tradition of dividing the laws of the Hebrew Bible into “greater” and “lesser” commands. This had the unintended effect of ranking some commandments as important and others not so important. So, a common question was - Is there a hierarchy of laws in the Torah? Do some laws mean more to God than others? Can we simply disregard the insignificant laws and only worry about the more important ones? The question is attempting to goad Jesus into devaluing the law and discrediting himself as a teacher. But once again, Jesus does not take the bait. Jesus himself once said, “I have not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it.”

          The strategy here is very similar to what we see in political debates and campaign ads in our own time. How many times have we seen candidates take positions on some issues but not others – only to have their opponents point out that they must not care about that issue, because they didn’t even mention it.

          So, instead of fighting a losing battle over the most important commandment, Jesus quotes words that every Jew knew by heart. They are the words of the Shema from Deuteronomy, chapter 6, the primary confession of the Israelites, with a somewhat unusual edit, especially for Matthew who quotes so often from the Torah. For some reason, Matthew leaves off the opening line, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.” But the rest is the Shema, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment.”

           Then Jesus adds another commandment that he says is like the first. He quotes a little known commandment “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

           Jesus links these two commandments together, as if to say you cannot love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind, UNLESS you also love your neighbor – AND yourself.

           But what does it mean to love God?

           In our culture, to love something can mean many things, and there’s no end of objects to love or like, for that matter. We love our dogs and cats, hats, shoes, movies, artwork, music, photography and sometimes, hopefully, people.

           Sometimes we try to parse the differences. The old, “Do you like him – or  do you like, like him,” that we used to do in Junior High .

           To like someone, we say, is to know the best of someone, and like them for it. Whereas to love someone is to know the worst, and yet love them still. Or, as an Eastern philosopher might say, “When you like a flower, you pluck it. But when you love a flower, you water it daily.”(3)

           So, how might we do that? How do we water God? We feed and pet our cats and dogs. We buy and wear our shoes and clothes. We patronize the arts. We spend time listening to music, and we are kind to people and try to take of others as best we can.

           But what about God? We’ve never seen God. God is a spirit, a presence. Loving God is a mysterious, nebulous idea. Most of us are not against loving God. We’re just not sure what’s expected.

           One of the most beloved songs in the musical “Jesus Christ Superstar” put it well when Mary Magdalene sings about following Jesus – “I don’t know how to love him.” We’ve all felt that way.

           Loving God need not be without passion, but emotion is not the key element. The Greek word agape used here has nothing to do with passion, whereas the word eros has everything to do with passion.

           That being said, although loving God may be passionless, it is not passive. One cannot love God without being responsive to God. Jesus himself gave us a rubric to help us know and learn how to love God.

           We live in a way that responds to God… with our hearts and our souls and our minds. In other words, our love for God is not passive love – on the contrary, it is very active, visible and demonstrative. In fact, to use the words heart, soul and mind pretty much covers everything that we are, our total selves. That is how we are to love God : with everything in our being, all that we are and the best versions of ourselves. When we love God, we are all in. Nothing is held back.

           First, we love God with all our heart. This can be difficult for Presbyterians, because it might involve some emotion, and that is not our strong point historically. We, and many traditional mainline denominations can be a bit cold and formal sometimes.

           For instance, there was a Christian from a small, informal country church who went to visit a large and formal church in the city. The preacher was preaching a beautiful sermon and the visitor shouted out “Amen!” The congregation became a little disturbed, this was not done in church. The ushers moved in and sat on either side of the visitor. The preacher continued, and again the guest shouted out, “Hallelujah!” and he raised his hands. The head usher leaned in and said, “Sir, you’ll have to behave yourself or I will have to ask you to leave.” The visitor answered, “I can’t help it, I’ve got religion.” The usher answered back, “Well, you didn’t get it here, so please be quiet!”(4) Loving God with all our hearts can be challenging for Presbyterians, especially if it involved showing emotion – but it can be done. In fact, sometimes it should be done.

           We are also called to love God with all of our soul, with everything that makes us aware and alive, able to express joy and empathy for one another – in effect, we love God with everything that makes us human.

           The composer Joseph Haydn was once criticized for the lightness and joy in his church music. To his critics he replied, “I cannot help it. I give forth what is in me. When I think of the Divine Being, my heart is so full of joy that the notes fly off as from a spindle. And as I have a cheerful heart, he will pardon me if I serve Him cheerfully.”(5)

           We are also called to love God with all our mind – referring to all our thoughts, understanding and rational being and intellectual capacity. So, we return to the thought that when Jesus “heart, soul and mind,” it is a way of saying “with all that you are.”

           The great preacher Harry Emerson Fosdick used to say, “If we could GET religion like a Methodist, be SURE of it like a Baptist, PREACH it like a Presbyterian, and ENJOY it like an African Methodist Episcopalian, then we’d really have something.” (6) How true that is. That would be loving God with our whole selves, everything we are.

           Jesus gives a good answer to this trick question. But now he has a question of his own, and it too is a bit tricky. While all the Pharisees were still gathered together, Jesus asks, “What do you think of the Messiah? Whose Son is he?

           They were quick to answer, it seemed obvious – “The Son of David.”

           Really – how is it then that David by the Spirit calls him Lord.” Jesus is quoting Psalm 110 here: “The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under my feet?”

           If David calls him Lord, how can he be his son?

           And the answer from the Pharisee – crickets. Nothing. Nobody could give Jesus an answer. Jesus is tying that Psalm directly to the Messiah, in essence foreshadowing that he is that Messiah. And from that day on, nobody dared to ask Jesus any more questions.

           So, the “Trick Question” part of Matthew’s Gospel comes to an end, with Jesus coming out the victor. The cornerstone of his victory with these debates with the religious leaders is “Love the Lord your God with all that you are, and love your neighbor as well as yourself.”

           The well- known Rabbi - Rabbi Hillel was once approached by a man who challenged him to teach him the whole of Torah while standing on one foot. The Babylonian Talmud reports Hillel’s response as follows: “That which is despicable to you, do not do to your fellow, this is the whole Torah. The rest is commentary.” (7)

           Jesus could have done the same thing. Love God. Love neighbor. Love yourself. That’s it. The rest is commentary.

           Praise be to God. Amen.

1. Douglas T. King, “Feasting on the Gospels,” Westminster John Knox Press, 2013, p201.

2. Ibid… p201.

3. Homileticsonline, retrieved 10/11/23.

4. Stephen M. Crotts, “How to Love God” Sermons on the Gospel Readings, CSS Publishing Inc. 2004, p368.

5. Crotts… p368.

6. Crotts… p371.

7. Patrick Gray, “Feasting on the Word” Westminster John Knox Press, 2011, p215.

10-22-2023 Show Me the Money

Thomas J Parlette
“Show Me the Money”
Matthew 22: 15-22
10/22/23

          Letters. Diaries. Poems. Receipts. Contracts. Manuscripts of various kinds, written in ink on yellowed paper. All composed by hand, during the Civil War. The kind of treasure trove that Ken Burns drools over.

          All of those documents were included in a new textbook that Professor Drew Gilpin Faust was using in her college history class. At the end of the semester, she asked her students what they thought about the book. One of the students said the photographs of the old documents were not very helpful to him because he couldn’t read cursive writing.
          “What?” thought the professor. “Did I hear him right? He can’t read cursive?”
          So she asked the rest of the class, “Who else can’t read cursive?”
          About two thirds of the class raised their hands.
           “And who can’t write cursive?”
          Even more hands went up.

          Apparently this is not a new thing. According to The Atlantic, cursive was omitted from the Common Core standards for education back in 2010. (1) At that point, handwriting instruction had already been in decline for some time. Cursive was historically associated with good character and virtue – it was widely taught in the 19th century as a “a Christian ideal… occasionally credited with disciplining the mind.” But that was the high point. The use of cursive declined throughout the 20th century as people shifted to typewriters in the 30’s and 40’s, and then to the first computers and now to tablets and smartphones. (2)

          The result? An increasing number of students cannot read or write cursive, including handwritten manuscripts. They have trouble understanding what is right in front of them in writing.

          In our passage for today, the Pharisees and the Herodians seem to be having a hard time reading and interpreting what was right in front of them as well.

          When we left the gospel of Matthew a few weeks ago, we were in Chapter 18 where Jesus delivered a long lesson about living together in community. We have now moved into Chapter 22. Jesus has entered the city of Jerusalem, he has driven the moneychangers out of the Temple and he has been telling parables about two brothers asked to go work in the family vineyard – one says yes and one says no. But the one who said yes, never went and the one who had said no, he eventually changes his mind and goes to work. We also heard the troublesome story about the vineyard owner trying to collect his share of the harvest and the greedy farmhands working in the vineyard, kill those who come to collect, including the vineyard owners own son. At the end of Chapter 21, we are told that the religious leaders knew these stories were aimed at them, so they went away to try and figure out a way to discredit Jesus.

          After they heard Jesus’ parable about the wedding banquet, also aimed at them, they hatched a plot to trap Jesus into saying something that would get him into trouble with the Roman government. In all honesty, it’s a pretty good plan. They come to Jesus with a question about paying taxes.

          First though, the religious officials try to butter Jesus up with some good old fashioned flattery. “Teacher, we know you have integrity and teach the way of God accurately. We know you don’t care what other people think and that you are an honest person. So tell us, is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?

          That sounds like a simple question, but it’s actually a loaded question. According to New Testament scholar N.T. Wright in his book Matthew for Everyone, Volume 2, “The issue of paying tax to the Roman government was one of the hottest topics in the Middle East in Jesus’ day. Imagine how you’d like it if you woke up one morning and discovered that people from the other end of the world had marched in to your country and demanded that you pay them tax as the reward for having your land stolen! That sort of thing still causes riots and revolutions, and it had done just that when Jesus was growing up in Galilee.

          One of the most famous Jewish leaders when Jesus was a boy, a named Judas (a good revolutionary name in the Jewish world), had led a revolt precisely on this issue. The Romans had crushed it mercilessly, leaving crosses around the countryside, with dead and dying revolutionaries on them, as a warning that paying the tax was compulsory, not optional. The Pharisees question came with a health warning. If you don’t pay the tax, you might end up on a cross.” (3)

          The Pharisees figure that if Jesus approves of paying taxes, then he’ll offend the people who are trying to rebel against the Roman Empire. But if he disapproves of paying taxes, then he might be reported to the empire and maybe even arrested. They are in effect asking, “Do you support rebellion or Rome?”

          Of course, anyone leading a Kingdom-of-God movement would be expected to oppose the tax. If Jesus wasn’t intending to get rid of the tax and all that it meant, what had they followed him from Galilee for – what was the point?

          This question put Jesus in a tight spot. Fortunately, Jesus sees right through them and turns the tables on them. He asks them to show him the money. “Show me the coin used for the tax.” They bring him a denarius, a Roman coin. “Whose head is this, and whose title?” They answer – “The emperor’s.” Then give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and give God the things are God’s.” He makes them read the writing on the coin, and uses their failure to comprehend it as a way to slip out of their trap.

          Matthew tells us that when they heard Jesus say this, they were amazed. They have no response, so they leave him and go away. At least for awhile.

          This story is popular because it shows Jesus outwitting his opponents with cleverness and reasoning. It’s the kind of moment where people can pump their fists and say – “ Yea, Go gettem Jesus!”

          Over the years, this story has been used to support the notion of separation of church and state. It seems Jesus is giving a nice, clean way of serving both government and God. Give the emperor one thing and God another thing. Keep them separate, don’t let them mix. Focus on spiritual things on Sunday, and on secular things Monday through Friday.

          But if we jump to that conclusion, we are not reading the cursive on the coin, so to speak. Remember, what’s written on the coin is a title, “Tiberius Caesar, august son of the divine Augustus and high priest.” That coin belongs to an empire that worshipped a godlike leader – which was deeply offensive to both the Pharisees and Jesus, who consider only the God of Israel to be divine. According to N.T. Wright, “Jesus wasn’t trying to give an answer, for all time, on the relationship between God and political authority. That wasn’t the point. Jesus was countering the Pharisee’s challenge to him with a sharp challenge in return. Was it, after all, they who were compromised? Had they really given their full allegiance to God? Weren’t they themselves playing games, keeping Caesar happy while speaking of God?” (4)

          This story is really about what we owe God. It’s about being a good steward. When we give to God the things that are God’s, we are offering our whole selves – body mind, soul and heart. We hold back nothing, seven days a week. We give God everything we have.

          Jesus clears this all up just a few verses later, when one of the Pharisees asks Jesus to identify the greatest commandment – another loaded question to try and trip him up. And Jesus answers, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” That’s what Jesus means by giving God the things that are God’s. That’s loving God with everything you have. Then Jesus adds a second part – “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” – a reminder that love goes not only to God, but to your neighbor and yourself, people made in the image of God, not Caesar.

          For Jesus, that’s it. That’s the whole law. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. Such love is at the heart of the Christian faith, directed to God and to the people made in the image of God.

          Back in the third century, Rome was still the dominant power in the world and Christians were undergoing persecution. In the year 258, the emperor Valerian commanded his Imperial treasury to confiscate all the money and possessions belonging to the Christian church. Responding to this threat, Pope Sixtus II, put a young man named Lawrence in charge of the church’s riches, and he also gave him the responsibility for the church’s outreach to the poor.

          The Roman emperor demanded that Lawrence turn over all the riches of the church and gave him three days to gather it all together. Lawrence quickly sold all the church valuables and gave the money to widows and to the sick. He then distributed all the church’s property to the poor.

          On the third day, the emperor summoned Lawrence to his palace and asked for the wealth of the church. With great fanfare, Lawrence entered the palace, stopped, and gestured back to the door. Streaming in behind him were crowds of poor, crippled, blind and suffering people. And Lawrence proclaimed, “These are the true treasures of the church.” (5)

          Perhaps you’re familiar with a more modern example of this idea. You’ve probably seen some of the commercials launched by the Servant Christian Foundation, a non-profit organization supported by anonymous Christian donors. It’s a campaign called “He Gets Us.” One recent 30 second video is called “Jesus was rich,” While images of common folks play on the screen, a voice over says:

          “He didn’t go to college.
           He never asked for a raise.
           He didn’t wear fancy shoes.
          He never took out a mortgage.
           His friends didn’t belong to a country club.
           His parents didn’t have a will,
           So, he worked hard and he invested wisely.
           Not in stocks or bonds – but in others.”

       And it closes with the words on the screen:

           “Jesus was rich. He gets us. All of Us.” (6)

          Yes, the treasures of the church, it’s riches, are the people made in the image of God. We give to God the things that are God’s when we do our part to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless and care for the vulnerable. We do God’s work when we look for the face of Jesus in the faces of the common everyday people around.

          May God be praised. Amen.

1. homileticsonline.com, retrieved 10/2/23.
2. Ibid…
3. Ibid…
4. Ibid…
5. Ibid…
6. retrieved from YouTube, 10/18/23

10-15-2023 The Real Housewives of Philippi

Thomas J Parlette

“The Real Housewives of Philippi”

Philippians 4: 1-9

10/15/23

          When it comes to reality TV filled with drama and conflict – nobody does it better than Bravo. One of my guilty pleasures is following the food competition Top Chef. It’s mostly a good-natured, but highly competitive show that pits chefs from all over the country looking to make a name for themselves in the culinary world. I’ve watched it for years – in fact, I think I’ve seen every season.

          My other guilty pleasure on Bravo is the reality series Below Deck. The show alternates between private chartered yachts in the Caribbean, the Mediterranean and now down under, in Australia. If nothing else, it’s enjoyable escapism to look at the blue waters and exotic locations. The show revolves around the challenge and drama of serving sometimes very demanding charter guests and combining that with the drama that exists below deck with the relationships among the crew.

          But the reality series that really went over the top with drama and conflict was the Real Housewives series, which I am proud to say I do not watch. It started with the Real Housewives of Orange County. In all, there have been 11 different shows in the series, all taking place in some interesting city, usually in the United States – but there was one done in Dubai. They’ve been everywhere from New York City to the Potomac, from Dallas to Salt Lake City, from Beverly Hills to New Jersey. The biggest irony of the Real Housewives series, is that the women featured on these shows are hardly “real” at all – and neither are most of the situations. In fact, the basic plotline seems to be – “let’s go out to dinner or take a trip together and see how many fights we can get into, the cattier the better.” Every show is just one big drama filled conflict. It’s the life blood of the series.

          At the end of the season, all the cast members get together in the Bravo Clubhouse and Andy Cohen stirs the drama pot even more. It’s all based on the drama of conflict.

          Which is exactly what Paul is trying to avoid at his favorite little church in Philippi. Rather than stirring the pot, Paul is trying to find a way to turn down the heat and resolve the conflict and drama that appears to be simmering in Philippi.

          We’ve spent the last few weeks working through our lectionary selections from Paul’s letter to the Philippians. We started in the first chapter as Paul encouraged us to live a life worthy of the Gospel of Christ. Then we considered Paul’s words about humility as he directed us to consider the needs of others, but also consider your own needs as well. And last week, we learned that we’re never really done with the life of discipleship – all we can do is press on towards the goal of for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.

          Today, we end our tour of Philippians with Paul’s final words to his favorite church.  It’s possible that Paul wrote other letters after this one, but in Paul’s mind, he considered this his final correspondence. You can hear that in his words.

          “Rejoice in the Lord always… Let your gentleness be known to everyone. Don’t worry about anything, but make your requests known to God. Whatever is true. Honorable, just and pure, think of these things. Keep doing what you have learned from me, and may the peace of God be with you.”

          It sounds very much like he is not expecting to see them again and this is his final goodbye as he sums up many of the themes that dominate the letter.

          Paul also seems to give us a clue as to what prompted him to write to the church in Philippi in the first place. In verse two he names two women in particular. “I urge Euodia and I urge Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord.” Paul is echoing what he has already said in chapter two about “being of the same mind and having the same love, being of one accord and of one mind” – except this time, at the end of the letter, he calls out two specific individuals. Perhaps Paul had been tipped off that something was brewing between these two leaders in the church there at Philippi and he decided to write the church a letter about living together in Christian community. It seems that Paul was well aware that this drama with these two leaders had the potential to blow up into a Real Housewives of Philippi situation, complete with conflict and drama that could do significant harm to young church.

          As Rachel Held Evans once said about living in community: “The good news is you’re a beloved child of God; the bad news is you don’t get to choose your siblings.” (1)

          Paul goes on to point out that the church has a role in the peace-making process. He calls upon the church community to be a moderator of sorts for these two women to settle their disagreement, whatever it might have been.

          David Brooks, writing in the New York Times, has pointed out “Nine Nonobvious Ways to Have Deeper Conversations” when you are called upon to lead warring parties towards reconciliation:

1. Approach with awe.  CS Lewis once wrote that if you’d never met a human and suddenly encountered one, you’d be inclined to worship this creature. Every human being is a miracle in their own way.

2. Ask elevating questions. Some questions, startling as they seem at first, compel us to see ourselves from a higher vantage point. Questions like “What crossroads are you at? What commitments have you made that you no longer believe in? What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

3. Ask open-ended questions. Many of us have a tendency to ask questions that imply judgment, like “where did you go to school?” Or we ask yes/no questions like “did you have a good day?”, which basically shut down interesting answers. Better questions start with “What was it like…” or “Tell me about a time…”

4. Let people be authors, not witnesses. The important part of people’s lives is not what happened to them, but how they experienced what happened to them.

5. Treat attention as all or nothing. We all have divided attention, it’s a fact of life. But in conversation it’s best to act as if attention has an on/off switch instead of a dimmer. Total focus on the moment.

6. Don’t fear the Pause. Most of us stop listening to a comment about halfway through so we can be ready with a response.

7. Keep the gem statement front and center. In the midst of many difficult conversations, there is what mediator Adar Cohen calls the gem statement. This is the statement that keeps the relationship together, what you have in common, what holds you in relationship. For instance, if some siblings are having a disagreement about the health care needs of an aging parent, it might be wise to say, “Even though we can’t agree on Dad’s medical care, I’ve never doubted your good intentions. I know you what the best for him.” If you can seize that gem statement it’ll be easier to come to a solution.

8. Find the disagreement under the disagreement. I am reminded of an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond, in which Ray and Debra have an argument over a new can opener. They both have their versions of what happened and their family members quickly take sides, noting that the whole disagreement is ridiculous because it’s all over a can opener. Then the older brother Robert, a police officer, says, “In all the domestic disputes that I’ve been involved in – I’ve learned one thing. It’s never about the can opener.” And finally Ray and Debra get down to the real reasons for their disagreement.

9. And finally, employ the midwife model. Sometimes people will solve their own problems, if you let them talk themselves through it. Rev. Margaret Guenther once wrote that a good conversationalist in these cases is like a midwife, helping the person give birth. That means spending a lot of time patiently listening to the other person teach themselves through their own narration. Many people come to a solution on their own that way. (2)

          You can see Paul using these techniques throughout his letter. For blogger Ann Malmberg, handling conflicts and reaching a resolution boil down to two things.

1. Acknowledging you’re on the same team.

2. Answering the question, “What outcome best serves our relationship.

          Focusing on who’s right and who’s wrong means you’re not putting much effort into understanding the other person better or thinking about how you can compromise. And that means you might be missing out on a really great opportunity to connect. (3)

          You can hear Paul using those concepts as he urges the Philippians to be of one mind and the same accord, and keep striving for the goal of the heavenly prize in Christ Jesus. In this way, Paul hopes the church in Philippi can find peace once more.

          In the aftermath of September 11th, Judyth Hill wrote a poem about peace – it’s called Wage Peace. In part she writes:

          “Wage peace with your breath.

          Breathe in firemen and rubble,

          Breathe out whole buildings and flocks of red wing blackbirds.

          Breathe in terrorists

          And breathe out sleeping children and freshly mown fields.

          Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.

          Breathe in the fallen and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.

          Wage peace with your listening: hearing sirens, pray loud…

          Wage peace.

          Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious:

          Have a cup of tea: and rejoice.

          Act as if armistice has already arrived.

          Celebrate today. (4)

          In these final words to his favorite church, Paul encourages them, and us, to wage peace, in his own way. I think he would agree with Judyth Hill’s advice to rejoice and celebrate – for he says it twice in verse 4 today – “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say Rejoice!”

          May God be praised. Amen.

1. homileticsonline, retrieved 10/2/23.

2. Ibid…

3. Ibid…

4. Ibid…