Jesus Didn't Say

I'm not preaching this week, but I have some thoughts bubbling on the lectionary:
(you can find the text here: Forgiving 70x7)

Jesus Didn't Say

Jesus didn't say, "Feed the deserving." Jesus said, feed the hungry.
Jesus didn't say, "Clothe the deserving." Jesus said, clothe the naked.
Jesus didn't say, "Welcome the deserving."  Jesus said, welcome the stranger.
Jesus didn't say, "Visit the deserving." Jesus said, visit those who are sick and in prison. And not just those who were wrongfully imprisoned, but those in prison, period.
Jesus didn't say, "Forgive the deserving." Jesus said, to forgive those who hurt you, not just seven times, but seventy times seven.

The rhetoric of today, which is not unlike the rhetoric of Jesus' day, is that if you have problems, particularly problems related to poverty or marginalization, you must have done something to deserve them.  Therefore, by deserving the mess in which you find yourself, you do not deserve the public's help; you are a waste of resources; you have no value.

The thing about forgiveness is that by its very essence, it isn't deserved.

As Christians, we are to love not only our friends but our enemies. We are to risk looking foolish in order to carry out acts of love as we live out the kingdom of God here on earth.  If we are too afraid we might be taken advantage of, if we become too obsessed with only helping those who 'deserve' it, we cannot practice love.  We cannot practice our faith.  Our churches become meaningless, no better than country clubs or 'members only' exclusive societies. Our closed hearts and closed doors create further harm in the lives of those who already hurt.

The foundation of our faith is loving, caring for and forgiving others beyond what they deserve, because we ourselves are already loved and forgiven far more than we will ever deserve.

Reconciled in Christ, Called to Be Disciples

Third Sunday After the Epiphany

Isaiah 9:1-4, Psalm 27:1, 4-9; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23

(look these up on bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)

credit: www.providencecpc.org

These past three weeks we've been following the Gospel story of the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, and the interactions he's had with his long-lost cousin, John the Baptist--who has had quite the public ministry himself, heralding the arrival of the Messiah he did not immediately recognize, and sent his followers to see if he was really 'the One,' then Jesus came out to John to be baptized in the Jordan, and the heavens parted to anoint Jesus for this public ministry.  Next, John began proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, and sent his own followers to become some of Jesus' first disciples.  And now, John has been arrested, his own public ministry coming to an end, and Jesus begins to proclaim: 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has drawn near.'  

The Gospel goes on to say that Jesus went about Galilee teaching the good news of the kingdom of God, and calling more people to become his disciples.

Now, to be honest, even as a pastor, the words, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has drawn near," do not immediately strike me as good news.  Actually, it sounds like maybe slightly scary news.  Maybe you even grew up feeling the same way.  Part of this, I think, is in the word 'repent.'  Repent means to turn away from one thing, and turn towards something else.  

Since the kingdom of heaven is good news, to repent means to turn away from the bad news!  But what bad news could that be?  Given the time and place in which Jesus was speaking, I could imagine several things: believing it's a dog-eat-dog world, that there's not enough to go around, that the future is hopeless, that your past mistakes condemn you to a life of shame; and even just the basic human divisions among religious and ethnic groups and nationalities in the Mediterranean crescent.  Also, there was the military occupation of the Roman empire, the reality of slavery, having your country overthrown and ending up in exile, ongoing wars, and so forth.

The good news, by contrast, is love: God is a loving, involved, forgiving God, and we can live in a world where we treat one another with love!

Now, the very idea that you might love someone outside your own ethnic or religious group, let alone a total stranger, not from your own tribe or town--or even an enemy with some threat of violence towards you, such as a Roman soldier--the very idea is enormously revolutionary!

And it makes all the sense in the world, these past few weeks as we've studied the relationship between John the Baptist and Jesus, and John's followers who are now becoming Jesus' disciples--it makes sense that the followers of John would be suspicious of another traveling teacher coming to town.  After all, in the Greco-Roman world, it wasn't only John the Baptist and Jesus, but hundreds of wandering philosophers spouting advice and making proclamations, usually in exchange for money.  This economic enterprise was so pervasive in the society that even after the death and resurrection of Jesus, even within the Christian community, Paul is still trying to address the problem.  In Corinth, there are divisions among those who have been baptized by different early church leaders.  However, the baptism is in Christ, and the community is in Christ--and this ties back into the story of the original reconciliation of followers between John and Jesus.

That was a long time ago, and yet I think this can be tough for us even today.  This past week has been the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, which is not always the best-publicized Christian festival, but no less necessary.  How often do we say, "I belong to the Presbyterian church, the Lutheran church, the UCC, the Baptists, the Catholics, etc?"  Yet, we belong to the Christian church.  We are one body in Christ.  

That's not to say that there aren't multiple valid ways of teaching and preaching and ministering to one another within the Christian community; not that there aren't multiple versions even of the Gospel stories--each varies from one another at least a little, and really, that's alright. Unity is not uniformity.  Unity is not the absence of difference.  Difference does not have to mean division, retreating into one's own little camps and eyeing anyone else with suspicion.

Yet, it's so easy to fall into this trap, that we have to keep reminding ourselves of the bigger picture, the gift of love, a love large enough to cast out fear.  Love is not naivete; love holds one another accountable, but does not exact revenge or even pettiness.  Love listens, even in times of disagreement.  Love realizes that the other people involved are also children of God.

One last thing.  I've been thinking today about these passages which talk about light:  The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?  Or, the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, a light greater than the depths of darkness they have seen in their lifetimes--even such despair that it seemed like the shadow of death, as the Gospel says.

This light is love.  Love transforms the darkness and dispels fear.  Love encourages building bridges, seeking understanding, healing hurts, and reconciling old divisions.  It is not always easy to see the light, and look at each other through the lens of love, but when we do, we are able to forgive.  We let go of our fear, and we might even find joy in love--just as God has first loved us.

Thanks be to God!

Called and Beloved

Isaiah 42:1-9; Psalm 29; Acts 10:34-43; Matthew 3:13-17

(look these up on oremus.bible.org or biblegateway.com)

This Sunday we celebrate the Baptism of Our Lord, and in this congregation specifically, we ordain and install our new Elders and Deacons, two forms of volunteer ministry that are essential to the good function of Presbyterian churches, and our ministry to both congregation and community.  

You might even say that on this Sunday we celebrate servant leadership, as exemplified in this story of Jesus being baptized by John.  John wonders how he is fit to baptize Jesus, who, after all, is the Son of God!  And yet Jesus, leader of all creation, submits to the baptism of John.  

Now, many of you know that I meet with my clergy colleagues each Tuesday to study the Bible and prepare for preaching.  This week, we had a lengthy discussion on this question:  Why baptize Jesus?  After all, John's baptism is for the forgiveness of sins, and Jesus is supposed to be sinless.

Well, to be honest, at the time, we didn't actually come up with any great, inspiring answers.  We were kind of mystified ourselves.  But, here's what I got to thinking since then:

First of all, by submitting to John's baptism, Jesus affirms John's ministry.  John's been out there awhile, in the wilderness, considered maybe a little crazy by some, but also hard at work, helping people, and has by now developed quite a few followers.  Jesus isn't about to 'upstage' John, he's affirming all the good that John has done preparing the way for Jesus' own public ministry.  By affirming John's ministry, Jesus is also perhaps enacting a reconciliation with John's followers.   Remember, over the past few weeks we've heard about John's followers wondering and wrestling over whether Jesus is the one they are to follow. 

Next, let's look at what happens after John baptizes Jesus:  the heavens open, the spirit descends like a dove, and a voice is heard saying, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."  This moment changes the very meaning of Baptism.  John himself said earlier in the Gospel readings, "I baptize with water, but the one who comes after me will baptize with fire and the Holy Spirit."

We baptize infants in our faith tradition, not because we believe they are sinners, but to emphasize God's forgiveness before they can even begin to comprehend their need for it.  We also baptize infants, along with everybody else, to welcome them into the body of Christ, the community of the Holy Spirit.

I imagine that on that day, in the midst of everyone gathered there, doing the daily work of ministry, that these sights and sounds of the heavens opening to announce the beginning of Jesus' public ministry, that it was an absolutely life-changing experience for everyone there.  I imagine it to be a moment of great hope, a little fear perhaps, and many other emotions--and even that daily work of ministering to others or being followers, would never be quite the same.

+ 

Let's return for a moment to the term I used earlier, Servant Leadership.  When we seek to be servant leaders, we submit to one another.  We are not looking out for our own ascent to power or grandiosity.  The servant described in the Isaiah reading today will not break a bruised reed or put out a dimly burning light.

Sometimes in the daily life of the church, these rituals we do of ordination and installation may seem like odd formalities. And yet, in doing them, installing and ordaining to service those who have been chosen by the assembly, we affirm each other's ministries.  We recognize, (especially in Presbyterian life) the equal status held among leaders, despite having different roles: teaching elders (pastors), ruling elders, and deacons.

We are all part of the community of Christ, whether in these roles or others, each with a part to play, and each with gifts to serve.  And we are Beloved, even when, like John, we might not feel quite up to the task.

And no matter what the task, we are certainly never alone.  God is with us, and we are guided by the Holy Spirit, as we seek to follow in Christ's footsteps.

We are called to be servants, but we are so much more than servants.  

We are all beloved children of God. 

Thanks be to God!

That We May Have Hope

Second Sunday in Advent

Isaiah 11:1-10, Psalm 72:1-7; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

(Look these up on bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)

[These are some of my favorite Bible passages, especially the Isaiah, so I have a few other things in writing [in brackets] that time did not permit me to share on Sunday.  However, I share them here to peruse at your leisure].

Many of you know that on Tuesdays a bunch of us pastors get together to study the Scriptures for the week and get started thinking about the sermon.  And most weeks it’s helpful, but this week it somehow got dragged down into one of those discussions where you try to figure out how to fix the world--and an hour later you haven’t fixed anything and you’re just kind of tired, and maybe a tad cynical:  One says, raise the minimum wage, another says that’ll just make everything more expensive and folks’ll end up back in the same place. And on, and on.

I don’t want to sit there and dwell in cynicism too long, so let’s get some basic assumptions out of the way before we begin: We know there’s brokenness in the world, and we wish it were not so.  We wish there were some easy fix, but we also kind of know there’s not.  We know that whatever can change the world for the better, will take an enormous amount of energy and effort.  We know we can’t check out of the situation entirely either.  And we know we don’t want to think about all of that and just end up tired, we’d like to have something to hope for!

Isaiah 11:6 '...the calf and the lion...and a little child shall lead them.'
Found at doveandcross.org

Today in our Scriptures we’ve got some amazing and perhaps a bit confusing imagery of a hoped-for world: A world where nature is re-ordered such that predator animals and their prey can live together peaceably and no one fears harm; a world where a king does not just look out for his rich and powerful political allies, but creates justice for the poor, who can give him nothing in return; and how even from a seemingly-dead stump, new life can spring forth.  

Wouldn’t it be wonderful!  How can we get there?  How can we have such a world where these things that we deeply in our hearts hope for, could come true?

Ah, that’s what folks have wrestled with throughout all time!

So, now, enter this strange character, John the Baptist, kind of a wild and crazy-seeming guy, a prophet proclaiming the kingdom of heaven is near, and the people of Jerusalem and all Judea are going out to him to be baptized, and they’re confessing their sins.

And many Pharisees and Sadducees, the religious establishment leaders of the day, are coming out to join them.  And that’s where John gets angry.  Why is that?

It might be worth noting that this idea of using water for spiritual cleansing is nothing new even in John the baptists’ time.  Jewish people for centuries had been using mikvehs, sort of like a big baptistry or if you don’t know what that is, a jacuzzi, with stairs that you descend on one side until you’re pretty well submerged, then you come back up the other side, ritually clean.  You do this after doing anything makes you ritually 'unclean'--such as preparing a loved one’s body for burial, or after childbirth, or a list of other things that I’m going to send you to Wikipedia for, since the list is a little 'earthy:'  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikveh

And here's a link to images of both ancient and modern Mikvehs, via Google image search. (Note that a person may not be wearing clothes in a Mikveh, so view at your own discretion).

Going Through The Motions

That makes you ritually pure to enter the Temple, the house of God, and worship.  It’s a powerful symbolic ritual, designed to prepare people to increase their relationship with God by leaving behind distractions of daily life.  But the real importance is not really the physical ritual, it’s the internal preparing of your heart for worship and relationship with God.  In other words, it’s not magic.  Going through the motions might make you look acceptable to your peers, but it doesn’t really do much for you if your heart isn’t in it.

That said, why is John so angry at the Pharisees and Sadducees?  It’s because they’re going through the motions, and they’re also relying on the privilege of their bloodline for their security in this world.  Rather than being accountable for their own actions and how their own corruption is harming other, especially vulnerable people, they are seemingly smug, and they hold everyone else accountable to the motions, without consideration for their human struggles, whether physical or spiritual.

Don’t Be Too Quick To Judge

We shouldn’t be too quick to judge, though.  Sometimes I think, If the Sadducees and Pharisees are there trying to get baptized, then really, maybe they’re not feeling all that smug and secure. And let’s be honest: we, too, could become smug, to say that we’re Christians, that Jesus reconciled the world 2,000 years ago, and that’s that.  Well, yes, we believe that our eternal salvation is in the death and resurrection of Christ, but if we do not let that affect how we live out our daily lives in relationship to God and one another, we really lose out on so much in this life.

The Gift of Baptism

In our faith tradition, we baptize infants because we believe that God does the work of salvation, that we do not and cannot earn our salvation, any more than an infant could.  God has done that work for us, that is God’s gift to us.  That is our gift whether we keep it up on a shelf, or whether we take it out every day and use it.  The gift is still ours either way, but in our daily lives right now, we are made richer by using it.  

[This brings up a tricky situation that many families wrestle with:  when grandparents want a child baptized sort of ‘just in case,’ even if parents don’t want the child baptized or plan to teach them the faith.  If you are a grandparent worrying over grandkids that aren’t baptized or don’t get to church, don’t fight with the parents over it.  And of course, you would never threaten a fiery hell or whatever else folks sometimes threaten others with, because that doesn’t help anyone.  Instead, you teach them the love of God and inspire that relationship two ways:  you show them God’s love with your own compassionate and gentle presence, and you teach them what it means to love others.]

In a world where we are living out our Baptisms, we aren’t afraid to love our enemies, to show compassion, or to forgive those who have hurt us. We hold each other to a different kind of accountability, one that says, ‘we’re all in this together, we care about the same things, we want a more peaceful world for our children here on earth,’ not a legalistic or revenge-based accountability that is so common in our world, yet so ultimately empty and unfulfilling.  

[After all, how many times have we heard where a person said about a lawsuit, it wasn’t really about the money and it didn’t make them feel any better, they just really wanted more than anything to hear that the person who hurt them was sorry for doing so.?

Sometimes in life, we cut off or try to avoid people who have done us harm because we think it’ll hurt less.  Granted, sometimes in life-threatening situations, such as a history of abuse or domestic violence, we do have to do that.  But in the more routine difficulties of relationships, the distance doesn’t really heal.]

[I’ve told you before as a pastor I’m often surprised by how many people worry whether they are actually saved or if they are going to hell.  And yet I take those concerns seriously.  If we ourselves haven’t faced that kind of anxiety before, we can at least sympathize with the people in the Gospel story, who are going to John the Baptist to be baptized for the repentance of sins.  They want  to be washed clean of whatever’s been bothering them that they’re not proud of.  But again, it’s not a magic trick.  It’s not a thing to check off your list.

Ideally, we’re reminded of the bigger picture, that world and kingdom of God we are hoping for, when we gather to worship, and then we are sent forth to figure out how to live that kingdom hope and those kingdom values in our daily lives--in how we treat our coworkers or fellow drivers or the store clerk or waitress or the person on the street asking for change.]

A Transformation Of Hearts

The Gospel for today happened to be the text for Friday’s Bible Study group, and one question came up, how do you really know that you have repented and are forgiven?  And I would answer, you know in your heart.  If that’s confusing, because I think that can be, even for me sometimes, then ask yourself--about a situation where you’re upset with someone, for example.  If you have something that you are sorry for, some harsh words, well, are you really sorry?  You know when you’re holding back in your heart.  When there’s someone out there that drives you nuts that you see everyday, (maybe even at church!), have you learned to feel compassion for them and whatever they may be going through?  

Are you just being nice to someone’s face, or do you truly deeply care about them?

There’s a quote in the book, Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card, which really stuck with me this week: “I find that by the time I truly understand my enemy... then I also love them…”  Those of you who know the book know that the quote ends with gaining advantage over and destroying the enemy, which isn’t all that loving.  But for our purposes today, let’s just take that first part:  

Can you go up to a person who drives you nuts and say directly to them, “hey, I know we’ve had our differences and probably still will, but I just want to let you know I care about you and I want to keep trying to work things out?”  When we are living out our Baptism, we don’t have to destroy our enemies.  It is enough just to love them.

(You can read the full quote here via Goodreads.com).

Anxiety and Hope in an Uncertain Future

While we’re talking about total transformations of the heart, let’s be real.  I’m a pastor, and I can be totally loving and forgiving and compassionate and understanding of each and every human being I meet for oh, at max, about six or seven days in a row. (And sometimes, if we’re really going to be honest, maybe some days, only a few hours, or a few minutes.  Some Sundays, I’m not even home from church before I’ve grumbled about three other drivers along the way). But, six or seven days, let’s say, and then I need to be reminded that the Kingdom of God is built not by resting on our laurels or by going through the motions, but by the active, daily practice of love.  Love in forgiveness, love in compassion.  We will all need to keep working at this, every day, for the rest of our lives.  Our eternal salvation does not depend on this, because that work has already been done.  But our world today, very much needs these daily doses of love.  By love, true community is built.  By love, all obstacles and challenges can be faced together.  By love, our world is transformed.

While I’m not likely to take the Isaiah passage literally and allow my young children to go play with nests full of snakes anytime soon, I do still fervently hope for a day when no one will hurt or destroy within the realm of God.

In an uncertain future, we can take hope.  And really, no matter how good or bad the present times are, the future is always uncertain.  We can allow that to paralyze us with fear, or we can allow that to turn us into cynics, or we can live into hope.  As Paul has written: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Prayers this Week:

For all who struggle in body, mind, or spirit, with the winter weather

For all who are hungry or homeless at Christmas, and at any time of year

For all who are grieving or hurting at this time of year

For all who are unable to gather with family and friends for the holidays

For the hope and justice and inspiration brought to all people by the life and leadership of Nelson Mandela

For All The Saints (Even The Rascally Ones)...

Luke 19:1-10
look this up on bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com

On the occasion of All Saints’ Sunday, and the dedication of our new hymnals

In between our All Saint’s day liturgy and dedicating our new hymnals and celebrating communion and everything else we do this day, lies the Gospel story of a man named Zaccheus.

Now, Zaccheus is described as a tax collector--and in those days one might just as well have added, a corrupt tax collector.  It was understood that they all were.  In fact the Gospel says he was the chief tax collector, and he was rich, which meant that he was really corrupt--because they didn’t pay tax collectors all that great; they earned their money by extorting extra off the peasants of the land.

Zaccheus was hardly righteous, a most unlikely saint.

And yet somehow he is a beloved little villain in the Bible--maybe because he was so short, or maybe because he was up in that tree, or perhaps because of that famous children’s song.  Sing with me if you know it:

Zaccheus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he.

He climbed up in a sycamore tree for the Lord he wanted to see.

And as the Savior passed that way He looked up in the tree, and said:

Zaccheus, come down, for I’m going to your house today.

I’m going to your house today.

(That’s probably the second song I learned in Sunday School when I was about three years old, right after ‘Jesus Loves Me.’)

So you might even say he’s the character not that you love to hate, but that you almost hate to love.

Ah, but there’s the problem.  The crowd gathered there knows all about Zaccheus, and they don’t love him.  He’s done them wrong.  They’ve got his number, and he’s making Jesus look either naive or incredulous, hanging out with him.  Maybe they’re even trying to warn him: Look out Jesus, you’re about to get scammed here.  He’s no good.

Then, in front of the crowd, Zaccheus says he’ll give half his possessions to the poor and pay back four times as much of whatever he’s defrauded anyone.  This means Zaccheus in on the hook for a lot of dough, and he’s about to become a very poor man.

And that is perhaps a better definition of the saints, those all-too-human and fallible, maybe even rascally, folks we know and love.  People that aren’t perfect, but have known love and shown love.  People who have not matched every footstep as Jesus’ disciple, but who still try to follow as best they can, knowing that it is not their perfection that is counted, but God’s grace.

On this All Saints’ Day, we remember those whom we have loved who have died and gone to their heavenly home before us.  Sometimes we might wonder, particularly if our loved one had his or her troubles, will we see them in heaven?  Yet I believe God’s grace is sufficient, and finds even the most rascally ones to transform.  By that day, we will all see with new eyes, and all that blurs our vision now will fall away, and all we will see is love for one another.  That task has been completed, because we are reconciled to God in the resurrection.  And knowing God’s grace for us, grace while we were still sinners and hadn’t done one thing to deserve it, can transform our lives right now, causing us to do the most generous and amazing things for others, even if nobody else thinks we ever would.

Jesus says, the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.  Not the perfect, not the self-righteous, but the lost.  Zaccheus had it all, but he was so very, very, lost.  Whether we are half as lost, or even if we’re twice as lost, there is hope in this life.  In the most unlikely times and to the most unlikely people, Jesus shows up.  Jesus might even say, “I simply must stay at your home today.”  And in the hosting, we will find joy.  It may not make us rich, at least not as the world counts it, but we will find joy.  Thanks be to God!

Prayers this week:

Those struggling this week with a reduction of food stamps

For those transitioning to long-term care facilities, or to Hospice

For those providing care for a loved one with a long-term or terminal illness

Youth Moment: Healthy Friendships

Have you ever had a friend who wasn’t very nice to you?  Sometimes this is called a ‘frenemy’--a friend who kind of acts like an enemy.  They aren’t actually real friends, because they seem to enjoy hurting our feelings, or sometimes even hurting us physically.  

Our true friends are kind to us and respect us.  It’s hard sometimes, but we need to recognize our true friendships as ones which are healthy and built on kindness.

We can also be a friend to others who need a friend and don’t seem to have one.  When someone is being teased or bullied, this is an especially good time for us to be their friend, by spending time with them, or by encouraging our friends to spend time with them and be kind to them, or even to tell a trusted adult about the person who is being hurt.  It’s not tattling to stop someone from being hurt.

Click here to view some great links to learn more about bullying and healing!

Seasons of Peace: Presentation Outline

Friends, if you were unable to participate in Sunday's presentation on the PCUSA Season of Peace, here is my outline for the session.  You can click on the links below and navigate around to many of the topics we discussed:

Seasons of Peacemaking

September 22, 2013

1.  What is the Season of Peace?

2nd Sunday in September through World Communion Sunday

Includes options for a 9/11 Remembrance and International Day of Peace

2.  Peacemaking brought Pastor Le Anne to the PCUSA

Presbyterian Peace Fellowship

Fellowship of Reconciliation

Council for the Parliament of the World’s Religions

UN Program; Peacemaking Program

3.  Resources:

Special offerings video on Peacemaking Offering (1 minute)

Compassion, Peace, and Justice Program video (1 minute)

Peace Fair, Bible Study, and Peacemaking Devotions

Travel Opportunities and Meeting International Peacemakers

http://www.presbyterianmission.org/ministries/peacemaking/

http://www.pcusa.org/seasonofpeace

http://www.pcusa.org/blogs/swords-plowshares/

http://www.presbyterianmission.org/ministries/peacemaking/international-peacemaking/

http://www.missioncrossroads.org/  

(Peacemaking, Disaster Relief, and Mission work closely and often overlap in our PCUSA ministries)

Giving Grace

Jeremiah 8:18-9:1; Psalm 79:1-9; 1 Timothy 2:1-7; Luke 16:1-13

Friends,

These past few weeks we’ve been working through some tough scriptures in the Bible--we’ve had the prophetic book of Jeremiah, speaking to the situation of a people unaware they were about to be overrun and exiled from their country; and we’ve had some difficult teachings of Jesus which have at least on the surface sounded rather harsh.  And we get a little bit more of that this week, as we come to the parable of the shrewd manager.

The Anti-Hero

At first glance, you might wonder why this is even in the Bible.  You have a dishonest manager who’s been skimming off his boss, and when he gets caught and is about to get fired, he apparently skims even more off his boss by cutting in half all the debts of the people who owe stuff to the boss--and then he gets rewarded for costing his boss money!  Does this make any sense at all?

Well, first off, we have to know the world in which this parable is told:  Often, the wealthy owned land and the poor became tenant farmers: they paid to work the land and make a (meager) living.  These landowners hired managers to keep everyone in line--and often, those managers were crooked.  They exploited the tenants and filled their own pockets.   Now, you might even argue that while the manager isn’t a saint, the boss is also cheating everyone, at the top of the system; and while we’re discussing all of this, do you recall all the stuff going on about the 1% and the 99%?

Now you should also know, in this crowd gathered around Jesus, they probably were the 99%.  They are the tenant farmers, they’ve been cheated by these managers, they know they’ll work their tails off and never get ahead.  These parables, then, are enormously subversive speech, and the crowd around Jesus knows it.

It was a system of savage inequalities, in a world where there was no social safety net, and no mercy.  And this shrewd manager was crooked but not stupid; he knew he’d likely die as soon as he lost his comfortable position.  So, on his way out the door, maybe he’s putting it to his boss, or maybe he’s making friends where he once had enemies.  After all, in having their debts even half-forgiven, the tenant farmers who have been exploited and mistreated by this dishonest manager, are more likely to be in a forgiving mood.  They are much less likely to attack this man with the revenge they must surely desire.

Deliver Us From What?

In our Brewing Questions group this week, we talked a bit about how so much of our faith tradition seems to assume a life that is nasty, brutish, and short, with lots of emphasis on deliverance from the world--not only in the Bible, but also so many of the religious writers that have come in the centuries since. It may not resonate so well today because at least in the past few decades, things have been relatively stable for us.  When was the last time, here in rural Wisconsin, that the teeming hordes swept through and burned the village and slaughtered the masses?  When was the last plague around here that wiped out entire families?  Fortunately, we’ve got antibiotics and we can listen to Dr. Zorba on NPR and we’re going to probably all be okay.  But not so long ago, daily life could be overwhelmingly, inexplicably tragic.

Perhaps the only folks around here fairly recently who would have known this quite so well, were the Native Americans, as the early settlers came through.  They knew diseases brought by pioneers that wiped out entire tribes; they knew slaughter and the burning of homes.  They knew exile and the destruction of their entire way of life.  In fact, our theology of Manifest Destiny, we know, became their Trail of Tears.  We haven’t been able to talk about these realities of our how our country was founded, and who was harmed in the process, very often.  It was often kept out of schoolbooks and the media of the day.  Talk about such things was also considered rather subversive speech.  We know there are still tensions and prejudices between Native American communities and several of our own towns and villages even here in Wisconsin.  We know that even today, Native American communities continue to suffer and often live in deep poverty.  

In light of this context, we can begin to understand the anger in the Psalm, asking for God’s jealous wrath to burn like fire against their enemies, since they themselves have been slaughtered and humiliated.  And yet the Psalmist also asks for forgiveness for themselves, for whatever harm they themselves have caused.  And you can really hear the overwhelming grief in Jeremiah, who asks for eyes to be a fountain of tears to weep day and night for the slain of my poor people!

Which Master?

Jesus says we cannot serve God and wealth.   Now, wealth can serve us; it’s not wrong to earn an honest living and invest faithfully, and even to be wealthy as a result.  However, when we earn our wealth dishonestly, through exploiting others, or investing in things which cause harm, then we are serving wealth, where the wealth matters more than the people who are harmed while we’re creating it.  Since God’s concern is for the health, dignity, and wellbeing of all God’s children, wealth earned in these ways would put us directly in conflict with God.

There are ways to be conscious, which even our own PCUSA programs of Compassion, Peace, and Justice help us to learn, in order to be good stewards of our wealth--how to shop and invest more ethically, how to even give our money in ways that cause good and not further harm.

Praying For the 1%

If we are the ones on the bottom, the tenant farmers, the exiled, those in the lowest positions, and it is someone else’s boot that is on our neck, it might be very hard to forgive.  It would be hard just to control our anger!  And yet, we have Paul’s teaching that we ought to pray for everyone, including kings and others in high places, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.  Let me reiterate: we pray even for our enemies, even for those who treat us unjustly, that we may lead lives that are quiet and peaceable, and that we might also live lives that are Godly and with dignity.  It is hard to live with dignity when we see ourselves as a victim.  By praying for others, we act to restore our own dignity--not by force or violence, but through peaceable means.  This robs us of nothing, relieves us of revenge, and fills us with hope and renewed purpose. And when we have discovered our dignity, we are able to work with others to address injustice and inequality in our world.  The path towards such a systematic reconciliation may be difficult, but it very well may be our balm in Gilead, that makes our woundedness whole and heals our sin-sick souls.

Go Ahead, Be Shrewd

There’s one phrase in there that I thought quite interesting, which struck me anew in this reading:  “The children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.  What does this mean?

Sometimes we may also be like that manager:  We too are caught up in systems that we know to be unjust, where we see vulnerable people being harmed.  It can be at school or work or even in our social circles.  it can be in our government and on our streets, or anywhere in our world.  We may not be sure that we can take the risk to change anything about it, until like that manager, we realize we’ve got nothing left to lose by doing so.  

We who would call ourselves children of the light, can't pretend we don't see suffering, can't close our eyes and refuse to get our hands dirty. We need to be a little shrewd, a little streetwise.  To get a little involved and stir up trouble, lest we be accused of squandering our too-comfortable lives.

And yet the good news is, we who have received such abundant grace, grace to cover all our sins and bring us to new life, are now free to extend such grace to others--those above us and below us, in high places and low, next door and across the street.  In doing so, we can truly be children of light, reflecting the true Light, which outshines all darkness. Amen.

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Prayers This Week:

For our Native American sisters and brothers

For all who are nearing the end of their earthly lives

For all who are caregivers

For all who struggle with chemical dependency

For all peoples who are displaced from their homes

For all who have suffered from violence