The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Who Then is This?
Mark 4:35-41

At the end of the Gospel passage we heard today, the disciples ask one another: Who then is this? Jesus has just stilled the seas and calmed the winds. Who then is this? They call him teacher earlier in this passage. Now they have known him in a new way. Who then is this?

Who then is Jesus for you? How do you experience Jesus in your life? The living Jesus who is here in our midst right now?

Is that a question you think about? Most of us, I expect would be quick to describe Jesus. We have a whole basketful of titles and theological terms to talk about Jesus. He is the Son of God, the Lamb of God, Reedemer…

We know the formulas of the creeds:
For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven…
For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate…
He suffered death and was buried…
On the third day he rose again…

The words describe Jesus and remind us of what he did for us. But what does he do for you? Who then is he in your life today?

As I think of the varied experience of all of us gathered here today, if we could combine our descriptions of Jesus’ actions in our lives, it would tell a wonderful story!

For the disciples, he was someone who stilled the storm that raged around them. Who is he for you?

Earlier this week I participated in the service in which the Rev. Nicholas Romans was installed as the new Rector of Church of the Transfiguration in Palos Park. The preacher was Martin Smith. He spoke about Jesus’ presence with us, in the midst of us, that night. And he opined about what he thinks the living Jesus likes best of all to do. It’s neat to think about what Jesus likes to do when he is with us. Smith’s feeling is that what Jesus likes best of all is to make things new. To bring new life. To renew people, churches, the world around us.

Who then is this Jesus? Often he is someone who makes things new, who renews us.

Smith also talked about how God trusts us. God trusts us to be the church, to be Jesus’ hands and voice in the world. Jesus conveyed that trust to the disciples. Maybe he does for us to. Jesus conveys and affirms God’s trust in us.

There is a common practice among many Christians to speak of Jesus as friend. Who then is Jesus? He is my friend. Yes, he is a constant companion, but there is one temptation to beware of in perceiving Jesus as friend. It’s easy to reduce Jesus to only human… to make him in the image of your ideal friend and then call him God.

But thinking of Jesus as friend inevitably brings to mind the great American hymn, What a Friend We Have in Jesus. Do you remember the rest of the words? It’s a wonderful sort of friendship that the hymn talks about.

What a friend we have in Jesus
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
 O what needless pain we bear,
all because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer. 

Who is Jesus? The bearer of our griefs and sins and sorrows.
Who is Jesus? The tireless messenger of our prayers.

I know Jesus as God, sharing my human experiences. And bringing God’s own holiness into my human experience. Shares and makes holy our human experience. The living Jesus still speaks the words that he speaks to the disciples at the end of Matthew’s Gospel. “Behold, I am with you always.”

Who then is this Jesus for you? How do you experience Jesus?

As I think about this question, another hymn comes to mind. It’s one of my favorites; I quote it often.

I came to Jesus as I was, so weary worn and sad. I found in him a resting place and he has made me glad. 

He is a resting place. And a source of renewal. I think “glad” is how you say “renewed” when it has to rhyme with sad. Jesus is a place to rest and be renewed.

He was asleep in the midst of the storm. For me that is not a sign of indifference, it is a sign of peace. Jesus is a source of peace even in the midst of life’s most tumultuous storms. And remember sleep is a process of renewal. Jesus brings peace and renewal even in the midst of fear, uncertainty and chaos.

Who then is Jesus for you?

The Third Sunday after Pentecost

The Kingdom of God is a Weed!
Mark 4:26-34

The parable of the mustard seed. This has to be one of Jesus’ most familiar and well-known parables. What does it mean to you? What does it say to you about your own faith life?

As I consider this parable I am going to draw very heavily on a reflection I read recently by David Lose.  (Posted here on Working Preacher.) He teaches preaching at Luther Seminary in St. Paul.

 But before we get to his thoughts, what does the parable of the mustard seed mean to you? What does it teach you?

I think the primary meaning I have long drawn from this parable is the understanding that the Kingdom of God is a wondrous and miraculous place. Jesus is teaching about the Kingdom. The Kingdom, even as we know it only partially in this life, is a wondrous and miraculous place. A place where something seemingly insignificant is transformed into glory.

The parable invites us to think about the mustard seed’s size, about how something very small becomes large. But Lose gives us another way to consider this parable.

The primary way I've heard the parable of the mustard seed interpreted and preached is as an allegory or fable. First the allegory: just like the mustard seed starts small and grows, so might your faith if you tend it. Second, the fable: sometimes very large things have small beginnings, so don't be discouraged if you exercise your faith in small ways, because God will use it to do great things….

[Fables] and allegories are meant to teach, to instruct, and to edify. Parables, on the other hand, are meant to overturn, to deconstruct, to cause frustration and, for those who stay with them, transformation. (Trust me, no one has been transformed by a fable!)

So consider an alternative, even subversive interpretation. What if the key to reading the parable of the mustard seed were to understand what a peculiar seed it actually is? The things about mustard seeds, you see, is that while some varieties were used as spice and others medicinally, in general they were considered at the very least pesky and often somewhat dangerous. Why? Because wild mustard is incredibly hard to control, and once it takes root it can take over a whole planting area. That's why mustard would only occasionally be found in a garden in the ancient world; more likely you would look for it overtaking the side of an open hill or abandoned field.

So pick your favorite garden-variety (pun intended) weed -- crabgrass, cinquefoil, dandelion, wild onion -- that's pretty much what Jesus is comparing the kingdom of God to. Oh, and that part about the birds seeking refuge. Maybe it's meant as a comforting image -- birds finding shelter from the elements. Or maybe, given the unfavorable reference to birds in the previous parable about the sower -- eating the seed off the path -- it suggests that once mustard shrubs take root, all kinds of things happen including the sudden presence of "undesirables."

Looked at this way, Jesus' parable is a little darker, even ominous. As John Dominic Crossan puts it: The point, in other words, is not just that the mustard plant starts as a proverbially small seed and grows into a shrub of three or four feet, or even higher, it is that it tends to take over where it is not wanted, that it tends to get out of control, and that it tends to attract birds within cultivated areas where they are not particularly desired. And that, said Jesus, was what the Kingdom was like: not like the mighty cedar of Lebanon and not quite like a common weed, [more] like a pungent shrub with dangerous takeover properties. Something you would want in only small and carefully controlled doses -- if you could control it (The Historical Jesus, pp. 278-279).

And I think that's the point: this kingdom Jesus proclaims isn't something we can control. And it's definitely not safe, not, that is, if we're even minimally satisfied with the way things are. Rather, the kingdom comes to overturn, to take over, to transform the kingdoms of this world.

But if you're not satisfied, if you can imagine something more than the status quo of scarcity and fear and limited justice and all the rest we're regularly offered, then maybe Jesus saying that God's kingdom is infiltrating the kingdom of the world offers a word of hope… 

 Hope. Seeing the kingdom of God as an invasive plant offers hope. The kingdom of God takes over, crowds out the kingdoms of this world. Once it takes root, there is no containing the Kingdom of God.

 The Kingdom of God is a world where mercy, compassion, reconciliation, and inclusion guide and motivate people’s interactions. The Kingdom of God is a place of mercy, compassion, reconciliation and radical inclusion.

The kingdoms of this world are governed by the need to control, by self-interest. Peoples’ actions and interactions are motivated by dominance and fear.

The Kingdom of God is invading the kingdoms of this world. Look for it. Look for the Kingdom of God. In your daily lives, look for the invasive mustard plants of God’s kingdom crowding out the carefully managed and controlled “gardens” of this world.

Lose encourages us to actually document these Kingdom sightings. Collect photos or ideas of examples that you personally see or encounter where the Kingdom of God is taking over. Make it a family project. We’ll find some way to share and compile these examples.

There aren’t really any rules for this project except one. I’m not interested in where YOU think God SHOULD be working in the world. We’re looking for examples of where God IS working in the world. Where the hope of God’s kingdom is taking root in the world around us.

This about training our eyes to see God’s kingdom in the world around us. (It’s less about moments of personal grace… times when you know God with you in your life. Those are definitely worth noting, but that’s a different project.) So look for the invasion of the Kingdom of God. Places where mercy, compassion, reconciliation, inclusion are taking root and growing against all odds. And maybe as we discover and discuss the Kingdom in our midst, we’ll also discover ways that we can help… help the Kingdom of God grow.

The Second Sunday after Pentecost

The Edwards Aquifer

For me there are several components that typically go into sermon writing. It’s part reading and academic research, part prayer and listening to the Holy Spirit and part free association. The free association part is important. That’s where the Scriptures for the week intersect with what’s going on in my life or in the world around us.

That intersection of God’s living word with our daily lives can be and should be a part of every Christian’s experience. It only happens, of course, if you’re living with the Scriptures. I urge you, if you don’t already, to take on some sort of discipline of daily Bible reading. Use Forward Day-by-Day or some other daily devotional or use the Daily Office lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer.

 For me this week, free association led me to consider the connection between the Collect appointed for this Sunday and the Edwards aquifer. On the way downtown to the diocesan confirmation service I was reading an article in the Nature Conservancy magazine about the Edwards aquifer.

The Edwards aquifer is a highly permeable limestone formation that serves as the primary source of water for much of central Texas. It’s important for that reason alone, but it is also interesting because it is also the source of many springs and artesian wells. The particular geologic configuration of the Edwards aquifer means that it is the source for water that flows freely of its own power up to the surface of the earth.

In today’s collect we speak of God as the source from whom all good doth come. Or, in the Rite 2 language, the source from whom all good proceeds. I think also of the beloved hymn where we praise God from whom all blessings flow. Jesus, in John’s Gospel, speaks of himself as being living water.

Springs and artesian wells, like those that originate from the Edwards aquifer, flow to the earth’s surface under their own pressure. They do not have to be pumped; they just bubble and spring up on their own, providing life-sustaining water.

God’s goodness, God’s blessings are like that. They flow into our lives under their own pressure or power. The force of God’s love generates blessing and goodness that flow freely into the world. We do not have to dig for them, pump them, grab them or seize them. They are simply given to us like a natural spring flowing freely.

 The analogy with the Edwards aquifer is not perfect. It can be polluted or its effectiveness limited by human intervention. God, as a source of blessing, on the other hand, is truly infinite and illimitable.

 These springs of God’s love could go by many names: goodness, blessing, living water. Whatever you call this goodness that flows from God, it is what we desperately need to really live.

It’s guidance to think and do what is right. Guidance and direction that comes from beyond our own needs and wants. And the strength and will to pursue that guidance.

 It is a reservoir of hope and love when the world is dark or full of despair.

It’s connection to a higher purpose, the invitation to participate in the establishment of God’s kingdom.

The springs of God’s blessing and goodness provide access to renewal and reconciliation.

They bring not only blessings, but the awareness of blessing. The springs of God’s love enable us to feel gratitude for God’s gifts.

And the gift of peace. The peace which surpasses all human understanding. Gods peace which overcomes fear and anxiety.

The free flowing springs of God’s goodness and blessing provide all these things to us.

So where do we find these springs of God?

God is, indeed, present everywhere. It’s possible to encounter God or to find God’s goodness in all sorts of places. And it’s possible, maybe, even come across a real bubbling spring of living water at home or doing something that brings you joy.

But there are sure and certain places, too, where we are absolutely assured of finding God’s goodness and blessing bubbling up, given for us, to us. “Sure and certain.” That’s language of the sacraments. And participation in the sacraments of the church is one sure and certain place where God’s blessings bubble up into our lives. The words of the Bible are another. Our common prayer is another reliable, never-failing spring of goodness and blessing.

Bring your deep thirst, your great need, here and you will find the life-giving springs of God’s goodness and blessing.

Trinity Sunday

Exhilaration and Awe
Isaiah 6:1-8
Psalm 29

I think I’ve shared with you before a comment I remember one of my professors at seminary made: If you think you understand or can explain the Trinity, your understanding is almost certainly heresy. False doctrine. If you are thinking to your self right now… “I’ve always thought about the Trinity this way…” Your idea is almost certainly heresy. On the other hand, if you’re thinking… “The Trinity is beyond my feeble brain to comprehend; I’ll just put the whole idea aside…” That’s probably apostacy. The deliberate abandonment of religion. Our God is a Triune God. To put aside the Trinity is to put aside God.

If your thoughts about the Trinity are along the lines of… “It’s a wondrous, dynamic mystery, and I fall down in worship…” That’s a good place to start.

The collect for Trinity Sunday encourages us to hold faith in the glory of the Trinity and worship the unity.

Worship. We are definitely called to worship the God who is one-in-three and three-in-one. As I’ve been thinking about worship the last few days, I’m carrying this description of worship: an experience of exhilarated awe. It’s something we do, but it’s also something we experience. And that experience is full of exhilaration and awe.

There is, of course, a general definition of the word worship, and it can be used in all sorts of settings. The dictionary definition is worship is “the act of ascribing value.” We worship those things that we see as having value in our lives. To ascribe value is to worship. Thus it is that the Bears, or nature, or materials goods. We worship the things that have value for us. Some of those things are more worthy of our worship than others.

One of my theology textbooks defines religious worship as: “The conscious turning of the attention towards God in an attitude of praise and thanksgiving.” It is also something we do to restore right relationship with God.

Both of the Old Testament readings appointed for Trinity Sunday—the reading from Isaiah and the Psalm—talk about worship.

I love the reading from Isaiah. It paints such a lively, dynamic picture. Imagine the prophet standing at the door of the temple and peaking in. And seeing, not a kind and welcoming vision of Christ like he would see here (although that’s a good thing, of course), but seeing the awesome mystery of God.

His vision is almost beyond imagination and description. But it is also located in a real time and a real place. In the temple in Jerusalem. In the year that King Uzziah died. God is present within the time and space of our human lives.

It was an awesome vision. The hem of God’s robe filled the temple. Seraphs sang and danced and flew and worshiped. The building shook and filled with smoke.

At least in my imagination, this would have been an exhilarating experience—to witness the power and majesty of God. And a humbling experience, too, restoring a right relationship of humility before God.

And then there’s the psalm. The psalmist uses that word ascribe a lot. Probably not a word we use often in everyday speech. It means acknowledge… grant to God. Ascribe to the Lord glory and strength… Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his Name. Acknowledge the Lord’s glory and strength in your own life.

And then the psalmist describes the Lord’s power. Certainly a power beyond our control.

The God of glory thunders.
The voice of the Lord is powerful and full of splendor.
The voice of the Lord breaks the cedar trees.
He makes Lebanon skip like a calf and Mount Hermon like a young wild ox.
The voice of the Lord splits the flames of fire.
The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness.
The voice of the Lord makes the oak trees write and strips the forests bare.

 I’m reminded of something Annie Dillard says somewhere. Instead of wearing our Sunday best to church, we should wear hard hats and flack jackets. Keep this images of God’s power in mind and come to worship with eyes wide, mouth gaping, heart racing before the glory and power of the Lord.

The power of God, the psalmist reminds us, is beyond our control. (Annie Dillard—hardhats to worship). Keep these images in mind. Stand with eyes wide, mouth gaping, heart racing.

Worship is an experience of exhilarating awe.

Isaiah reminds us of one more very important aspect of worship. The prophet is changed by his encounter with the glory of God. He is given his prophetic voice.

Everyone who participates in worship should expect to be touched and changed.