Ash Wednesday Message

         Look at the person nearest to you—at their brow in particular.

         Nothing?

No smudge, no black spot, no dust and ash cross on their forehead?

         Well, the wild thing is that it is already there

—that ash

—that ash is already there on their forehead and upon your own as well.

         You are dust and to dust shall you return—that’s an obvious truth, we are mortal, we’re confined to a particular time and place. Our bodies break down and things fall apart,

to quote both William Falkner and the Buddha,

“All things impermanent.”

         That’s already the case.

“All things impermanent,” is a reality whether I put ash upon your brow or not…

but when I do, this hidden truth is made plain,

it becomes obvious,

it comes to the forefront of our lives. What was hidden is revealed. The invisible is made visible.

         And, very briefly, because the ritual actions we do this night speak more powerfully than any words I can come up with,

I would like to talk to you about the power of hidden, invisible, things.

Prayer

         In today’s Gospel we read of hidden things—Hidden Alms, Hidden Prayers, and Hidden Fasting.

         These are of course things we, as people of faith, do.

Things we as children of our Heavenly Father do, not to be seen, not to be honored,

 but because of the wondrous grace we’ve received and continue to receive from God.

         These hidden things—

-giving of our possessions to those in need,

-praying to God that the reality of Heaven might break into our lives and into the lives of both friends and enemies,

-and consuming less, so that others might have enough

are all practices of the Christian Church

—I could, I believe, name times when each one of you have done things that fit within these broad categories,

Alms, Prayer, and Fasting.

         And it is during the season of Lent—these 40 days leading up to Easter—when we make obvious these actions, when we afford ourselves extra opportunities for these practices.

         These things we as God’s people do in secret, are made more obvious in Lent.

Like that hidden dust that is already on your brow, yet will be revealed shortly

—the hidden piety of the people of God is revealed in Lent.

         Jesus speaks of hidden deeds, and Paul speaks of a hidden triumph, a hidden kingdom, and a hidden citizenship.

         Not to get too deep into the geopolitical mud, but look at what the country of Russia is claiming and doing. They’re claiming a right to defend Ethnic Russians, no matter what country they live in, and they’re giving Russian passports to Ethnic Russians who are citizens of Ukraine.

         It is as if these Ukrainians are secret Russians, they have a secondary, invisible, citizenship.

         And that is what Paul is pointing to today, an invisible citizenship that motivates the Christian life.

         Through Jesus Christ’s life, death, and resurrection we can say:

 -now is the acceptable time,

-now is the day of salvation. We know his death, and our own, is ultimately a triumph, taking the dark no of mortality/ and redeeming it with the overshadowing mercy of God’s Yes for us.

         We’ve found a second citizenship—an invisible one, the Kingdom of Heaven.

         And we are ambassadors for that Kingdom, for that Good News.

         We’re freed to live out that calling, which may bring about hardships of all sorts…

yet we struggle to respond with goodness in all things,

finding ourselves held taut by that tension

 “treated as imposters, yet in truth, true/ dying, and yet see! we are alive.”

         Yes, look to your sister or your brother,

at their forehead,

their brow,

their mortality is there,

“All things impermanent.”

--but so too is Alms, Prayer, and Fasting

—so too is Christ’s triumph and their citizenship in the Kingdom of God. Amen.

Peter on the Transfiguration

         I guess I can tell you now, after all he’s risen from the dead and the Spirit has sent us to proclaim that message from Jerusalem to Rome and on to the ends of the earth.

         I’m not quite sure where to start though—at his Baptism maybe—after all my story today echoes that Baptism by John…

         Or maybe that’s where it starts—I think so…

John was killed by Herod, so we went off to a quiet place to rest and mourn that great man’s death—but people showed up

—we tried to escape and reflect, but everyone was draw to Jesus, and we needed to feed them…

sure Jesus multiplied loaves and fishes, but we disciples still had to distribute the food

—imagine it, bachelors and fisher men, and tax collectors—12 men—feeding thousands of people

—it was hardly in our skill-set

—it was exhausting to provide for all those people.

         Then Jesus tried to escape off to quietly pray

—and by the end of that I walked on water

—though first I nearly sank

—a scary exhausting experience.

         Then we fed another crowd.

         Then I confessed who he was… who he is.

Jesus is “The Messiah, the Son of God.”

         I felt like I was finally on solid ground with that

—but then he talked about suffering and death

—he kept talking about suffering and death

—following him by taking up a cross

—a God-forsaken-cross.

         The cost of following Jesus,

the constant threat of death, affliction, and doubt,

feeding people constantly,

the low level wear-and-tear of all of it,

the constant grind,

it was too much.

         But then, after six days, he took the three of us up the Mountain.

         Up the mountain like Moses and Elijah

—Moses receiving the commandments and Elijah instructed by God to find the people in Israel who remained faithful.

         Jesus was changed before me, before us, becoming radiant, bright—like an angel a Son of God.

         And then those Holy Men of Old were there—Elijah and Moses—the Law and the Prophets, both there with Jesus.

         And all that… that fear and sorrow and worry and hurt that came from following Jesus, evaporated.

        

“Let’s stay here.  I’ll build booths!”

         I know, it might sound stupid, or naïve, or silly

—written down in our holy books now

—my weakness recorded forever, and even preached about in churches,

but that moment on the mountain, I felt safe.

It was a solid rock,

 something that wasn’t demanding of me,

taking from me.

It was something other than suffering and death and service.

That’s why I wanted to build a booth there.

         But all that was overshadowed by what came next

—that voice—the Bet Col, the voice of God

—just like at Jesus’ Baptism. It said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.”

         My confession

—that Jesus is the Messiah and the Son of God

—was confirmed by a voice from heaven!

Confirmed just as it was at Baptism

—but more than that, there was a command too, “listen to him.” Listen to suffering, death… and resurrection.

         In that sublime moment of rest and confirmation there was also a calling, a calling to what comes next

—it literally bowled me over. Knocked down into a little ball by the holy terror of what this calling was

—who this Son of God is.

         It might sound odd, but Jesus telling us about suffering and death is one thing… but the blinding divine confirmation of that calling, is a whole different thing—it was so frightening… hell, it IS so frightening.

         And to my fright came a gentle touch and the words, “Get up and be not afraid.”

         Those words, “Be not afraid,” are the words of angels and prophets,

as well as words from God Godself

—words He spoke to Moses when the Egyptians breathed down his neck

—words spoken to Elijah when he confronted the king

—words spoken by Ezekiel, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Joel

—words to me and to all of us from my Lord Jesus.

         Jesus, there, now alone, no ancient prophets or sparkling Messiah,

but Jesus, leading us down the mountain,

back to the hard work of service,

down the mountain to Jerusalem with its suffering and death.

         Down the mountain in silence, telling no one of this experience

—Jesus revealed to us fully, in glory, in completion

—revealed to us as our comfort and God’s Beloved Son

—revealed to us in commands about following him even to the most disastrous of ends, and following even then

—so that we can tell of his Resurrection

—tell of him being raised from the Dead.

—Tell of how suffering and death,

service and discipleship

are matched with being a Child of God, comforted by the Christ.

The Valley and the Mountain are both there.

         As we head down the mountain into the valley,

the darkness of that,

we have seen the light,

and it changes this journey to Jerusalem with Jesus.

A+A

Seminary Debt 2014 edition

So, one of my hobby horses is Seminary Debt… and making pie charts… lots of pie charts.

Well, tax time rolled around again, and I wanted to pass on a picture of how things look in 2013. My taxes have went up a little, but thanks to the Obama Administrations student loan modification plan the amount I owe on Seminary Debt went down, and both my tithing and my remaining income went up.

Below is the chart:

A story about Jesus' Sermon on the Mount

            There was once a village, and at its center was a maze, and in that maze was a monster, vicious and cruel, death dealing to an extreme. But the villagers said to themselves, “stay on the safe side of the maze, and you’ll be all right.”

            But it seemed the monster could navigate the maze and get in and get out.

            So, the villagers built a wall around the perimeter of the maze, and told their children, “just stay on the safe side of the wall and you’ll be all right.”

            But then the village’s sheep started disappearing, people started seeing a monstrous thing in the shadows.

            One day a Builder came to the village, and volunteered to create a barrier for the sheep and the children, so that the Monster would be kept at bay, and they would be safe.

            The village rejoiced and it was built, so sturdy that they knew the children and animals would be safe.

            Then the Builder offered to create a trap for the monster, and as bait to catch the Monster he offered himself—the Builder was the bait for the Monster.

            That night he sat in his trap, and dusk came down. He could hear the Monster claw at the walls where the vulnerable were, but it did not break the barriers.

            Then it entered his trap, rushing at him… and the trap was tripped, a net came down over the monster and scooped it up

            … and the monster was revealed—it was the villagers themselves.

            The Monster was the people, their anger, lust, and lies driving them to do things they could not imagine they were capable of.

            And then in the light of day, the Builder unsprung his trap, releasing them all from the Monster.

A colorful map of the Synods of the ELCA

I'd noticed there were no maps of the 65 Synods of the ELCA that were very distinguishable--instead they were all monochromatic--so I colored them in.
PA and the Northern Midwestern patchwork are kinda funny--they're thick with Lutherans.

Sermon: The Kingdom of Heaven is meant to be shared

The Kingdom of Heaven is meant to be shared

         Did you see the commercial for the newest breakfast cereal, Salt Cubes? 

         It starts off with Salty the cartoon deer in flannel and thick rimmed glasses pouring salt cubes into a bowl while two human children and their parents get ready for school and work. The dad takes the milk out of the fridge and is about to pour it on the cereal, when Salty puts his hoof over top of it and says, “Salt Cubes don’t need anything added to them. Just take a handful, chuck them in your mouth, and enjoy.”

         Which the family proceeds to do—they look like their trying to imitate The Cookie Monster from Sesame Street—you know the one (demonstrate)—by the end there are crumbs of salt all over the place.

         Then the Salt Cubes logo flies into place and an announcer says, “Salt Cubes: The Salty Breakfast Cereal!”

         Or there’s the new product “Eye-HighBeam-Glasses” a competitor of Google Glass. As you may know Google-glass essentially puts all the features of a smart phone into a pair of glasses.

         “Eye-HighBeam-Glasses” does something a little different. It takes two lights, as powerful as the high beams in your car, and constantly shines them in your eyes.

         I hope both of these fictional products make my point today fairly plain,

if we are the salt of the earth,

 and we are, we’re here for the sake of the earth,

and if we’re the light of the world,

and we are, we’re here for the sake of the world.

Salt is meant to preserve things and bring out their flavor—not to be eaten on its own.

Light scatters the darkness so that we might see clearly—otherwise it’s simply blinding.

         And so I want you to know, The Kingdom of Heaven is meant to be shared.

Prayer

         The Kingdom of Heaven is meant to be shared.

         What is the Kingdom of Heaven?

         We read today that we’ll be the least in the Kingdom of Heaven if we break a commandment, and if we’re not more righteous than the scribes and Pharisees we’ll never enter it.

         Now, I know some of you naturally assume this is talking about heaven/heaven… as in, where we’d like to go when we die.

         And that would be a frightening prospect. It would mean there is a hierarchy after we die. This might conjure up images of people on clouds playing harps,

some on really nice fluffy clouds, playing beautiful gold harps,

while others cling to storm clouds and play out-of-tune banjoes.

         But that’s not what’s going on. Heaven, for Matthew— like other Jewish writers around this time, is a way to say God without saying God—most likely because he doesn’t want to overuse or misuse the divine name.

         The Kingdom of Heaven—the Kingdom of God—is the hoped for rule of God, the time when all will be made right,

when the meek shall inherit the earth,

those who mourn will be comforted,

the merciful will receive mercy,

those who hunger for justice will be filled with it…

         Sound familiar? It is the very thing Jesus proclaimed last week—the beatitudes, the blessing of the disinherited.

         It is the very Ministry and Gospel of Jesus—it is what he accomplishes in his life, death, and resurrection,

and it is the calling we have on our lives as his Body in the World, the Church.

         And so, the point of the Law (the Torah), which we read Jesus did not come to abolish, but to fulfill, is to make the Beatitudes a reality—and clearly he doesn’t think the way the Pharisees are living out the Law is doing that; neither would breaking the Law of God bring about the Beatitudes.

         The Kingdom of Heaven is meant to be shared.

         This good news of blessing—the Beatitudes proclaimed and made manifest,

that God has come near in Jesus Christ reconciling all people to Himself,

isn’t something to hold onto for ourselves, because then we end up gagging down salt cubes and blinding ourselves with unhelpful glasses.

         Neither is it something to water down, because then it becomes diluted, and something other than gospel.

         Neither is it something to hide, because then it is of no use to those most in need of it.

         I’m sure we can all imagine how these things can happen—

How the Gospel can become a me and Jesus type of devotion/

 Instead of a we and Jesus faith that challenges and shapes our lives lived together

         How the Gospel can be diluted and become a self-help system, or a culturally acceptable form of entertainment/

Instead of life out of death, encouraging the entire world to be life giving.

         How the Gospel can be hidden behind all kinds of other stuff, walled off from those in need—a mighty fortress keeping those out who desperately need to come in/

Instead of being a bulk worth against trouble and a lighthouse for those in darkness.

         And yet, Jesus doesn’t ought us into salt/ or should on us, until we become light.

         No, Jesus says we ARE Salt and we ARE light.

         Salt can’t be anything but salt, and if a light is put under a basket that basket will soon be on fire.

         Both Salt and Light are naturally occurring things, both gifts from the gracious God who created all that is.

         It is not us who make ourselves Salt and Light, but the Holy Spirit calling us through scripture making us spicy and bright.

         We are salt and light.

        

         We share the Kingdom of Heaven in our life together. There are few places in our society outside the family where people of all ages meet together—but here we are, together. We share our sorrows and our joys with one another, lifting them both to God in prayer.

         We flavor this world, by living in such a way that the jobs, identities, and relationships we have in it reflect God’s love for His Creation. We give space for our children to grow into their faith here among brothers and sisters of the faith, mothers and fathers of the faith.

         We preserve our neighbors in need by collecting food and clothing for them and working for their wellbeing in a myriad of ways locally, and also nationally and globally, including the ELCA’s stellar work in creating affordable housing, stepping up when disaster strikes and staffing refugee camps throughout the world.

         We brighten the world with our ongoing proclamation of the Gospel and many opportunities to reflect upon God’s Word. Most recently in the planting of a Lutheran church in Jordon, in a Middle East experiencing an ongoing depopulation of Christians, we are sticking around.

         We shine a light on dark and confusing places when we wrestle with tough social issues,

and we highlight peacemaking when our Synod yearly sends teams to Bosnia to run Reconciliation Camps for children in order to help diffuse the longstanding tensions in that country, so the ethnic cleansing that happened in the 90’s will not happen again in the next generation.

         And those are just the things I can come up with off the top of my head.

         Brothers and sisters, the Holy Spirit has empowered us to be Salt and Light, and Christ has proclaimed it of us.

         I challenge you this coming week to listen carefully to the Spirit, and when you catch yourself being Salt or Light, to ponder it and to thank God for it.

         You are Salt and you are Light. The Kingdom of Heaven is meant to be shared.

A+A.

Psalm 112

Psalm 112

A is for A Happy Person, who is happy because they are in awe of the LORD, they delight in His commandments.

B is for Big, because their influence in the world will be big; their upright children will be blessed.

C is for Collection, because they collect many good things and their right action shall endure forever.

D is for Darkness, which will be overcome by the light of their justice—their grace, mercy, and righteousness glows!

E is for Excellence, which follows the generous lenders, who in all things act justly.

F is for the Faithful Righteous, who will never be moved; they will be remembered forever.

G is for these Guys who aren’t afraid of bad news, because their courage comes from the LORD.

H is for Hard as a rock and just as steady, which they are; they will win the day.

I is for the fact that I’ve seen their generosity to the poor; their righteousness endures forever; for all this they deserve praise.

J is for Just how much bad people can’t stand it; how bad folk grind their teeth and slip away in silence; how their wicked plans fail.

The Beatitudes Sermon Video

The Beatitudes

The Beatitudes

         Look at them flowing in like a wave of woe, like a river of the disinherited. This long line of broken people streaming out of Syria

—the diseased and demon-possessed, the epileptics and paralytics, the ailing and dying

—like Refugees all marching out to a hillside at the Jordon.

There Christ heals them.

There Christ blesses them.

         In that blessing he interprets the healing he has done to them.

         In that blessing he promises a life with God to all who hear his words.

Prayer

         To the Poor in Spirit, those wretched broken ones, he says:

         “Don’t judge by outward appearances. God’s favor is not measured by things—poverty and riches do not point to the depths, or shallowness, of your faith. Instead, all these things are gifts from my Father… we live in this world as a guest in someone else’s house, never claiming its contents for our own.

In your multi-fold poverty you have found an equilibrium relating to things,

neither trusting and lusting after goods, nor martyring yourself in order to show good spiritual discipline—Yours is the Kingdom.”

         To those who mourn, tears on cheek and sobs silent or aloud, he says the same:

         “Emotions don’t indicate blessedness. Surely rejoice always and again I say rejoice, for God is with you and loves you and will never let you go,

but be ready to mourn with those who mourn.

It’s hard child,

simply being faithful in this life brings enough mourning and sorrow, there is no need to seek more.

This life hinders and hems us in on every side, it will make our heart sad—

but I’m here for you and with you, I bring you comfort.”

         To the meek, hiding in the back and letting the mourning and poor go ahead of them, he says:

         “Don’t you know that the first shall be last—you surely have not lost your reward.

I see me in you—I see the one who is in the likeness of God emptying himself and becoming a servant

—the humility of all that

—I see it, and so does my Father.

I come for you as well as to the others,

and my Father’s world is for you too—you are not disinherited, in fact you will inherit the earth.”

         To those hungering for justice and thirsting for righteousness, haggard and determined, he says:

         “I see you, day in, day out, firm of face and refusing to be chased off, or overcome by the world’s ingratitude and malice, pushing forward with all the might you can muster.

I see how you act for the general welfare, doing right in a world far from it.

Keep your hunger and your thirst close!—or you will turn to despair, sometimes those drives alone will keep you going when an unjust world wants to grind you down to dust.

But know this, the intentions of God are for justice to roll down like water and righteousness like an overflowing stream.

Those intentions are made plain, satisfied, and filled, by my righteousness given to you, even as you struggle for its presence here among us.”

         To the merciful, tending to their fellows and paying as much attention to their needs as to the message, he says:

          “Truly you have born much in your ongoing acts of mercy, you’ve received more than your fair share of suffering in turning the other cheek.

Continue to trust that “vengeance is mine says the Lord,” so that you do not seek that vengeance for your self and sully your good name or your soul.

Know this, the Lord of Mercy grants you all mercy.”

         To the pure of heart, undistinguishable from anyone else in the crowd, he says:

         “Where the heart is pure, all is pure. That is why I point to the tax collector’s anonymous prayer, not the Pharisee’s hyper-public one.

A man shoveling coal and stained deeply with it, but trusting God and loving neighbor, knows of my grace more fully than a pastor with white robes and flowing words.

Purity flows from faith, trust in my Father’s promises—the Word of God and serving those in need. I say to you, as you did to the least of these you did to me.

When those two connect, faith and service, surely you see God!”

         To the peacemakers, holding back bloodshed and looking with understanding on the Other, he says:

         “Hold fast against those old bloodhounds, the rulers of the nations, whose wars maim many and cause famine and retaliation, then justify it all with a shrug and a chuckle.

Hold fast to the better angels of your nature

—hold fast to your conviction that everyone you talk to, and talk about, are children of the same Heavenly Father.

Take that eighth commandment and use it to tell the truth about your neighbor, but the truth told so kindly that it may even transform their intentions and make right their actions—change from gossip into grace.

And in your holding back of violence and speaking truth in love, truly you are my sister and my brother, surely you will be called a Child of God.”

         To the persecuted ones, threatened and destroyed for the sake of the Ways of God and of Christ, he says:

         “this is no easy way,

 to gain your soul you must lose the whole world—

they may strip you of popularity or reputation, goods, family, health or even life.

You might find before you torture and kidnapping—all kinds of evil—that’s to be expected, look what they did to the prophets, and John, and myself.

Yet, know this you poor hurt folk, yours is the kingdom of Heaven.”

         Look at them listening to Christ there by the Jordon

         Look at them, these healed women and men, given a life with God.

         Look at them, healed and blessed.

A+A

One month without the internet

Well, this ends my one month of limited internet use.

Here are a few observations.

I jonesed for the internet for at least the first week. I’m not going to tell you it was a detox from an addiction, but it was a real sense of withdrawal. There is a particular feeling the internet gives me relating to multi-tasking that is a sense of electronic control, which I really missed. In fact, watching two or more TV shows at the same time (channel surfing) gives a very similar feeling.

I really missed Andrew Sullivan, Facebook, and Twitter, for their rate of updating and curating of internet content. I also missed having them on my smart-phone, as they were something to look at for a few minutes during boring moments and down time… I found myself looking at my smart phone… for nothing. That habit lessened after the first week.

One of the things I gained during this month was a renewed sense of the personal and the private. I would experience a moment which I would normally share with my 662 closest friends on facebook or to all my 289 followers on twitter, and I didn’t share it… instead I savored it privately, which is really much more important.

Additionally, I found myself emailing individual people something I wished to share with them, and we’d actually have an email conversation about the thing, instead of me putting it up on facebook and a bunch of people “liking” it just to let me know they’d seen me post it.

One of the things I’d hoped for was that I’d be more productive. Well, I have managed to start a writing project placing The Book of Revelation in its historical context, and read three books related to said project.

Finally, here are some faith related things I would have shared via facebook or twitter had I been using them. The Longest Sermon I’ve preached at St. Stephen, a pretty good sermon on Evangelism, and finally a Newsletter article which a colleague described as “eloquent and uplifting.”