Malachi 4:1-2a, 2 Thess. 3:6-15, Luke 21:5-16
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

This past Wednesday evening I took Anthony out for a birthday dinner at a well-known Cleveland restaurant.  We intentionally arrived a half-hour before our reservation so to have a cocktail at the bar and relax.

The barroom was packed when we arrived and every barstool occupied, so we grabbed a table and I went up to the bar to order our drinks. A few minutes later the bartender placed the cocktails on the bar. As I took out my wallet to pay for them, she says to me, “Oh, you don’t have to pay. It’s an open bar.” My initial thought was, “Wow! This restaurant is even better than I thought it was!” But then I realized the big crowd at the bar was probably a part of a group. So, I said, “Oh, I’m not a part of the group.”  To which she replied, “Oh, okay. Thanks for being honest.” Thanks for being honest?
 
I have been thinking about that comment ever since. Is honesty now something that needs to be thanked for when it occurs? When was the tipping point when honesty and its companion truthfulness, no longer were the norm for our communal behavior, but rather, the exception. So exceptional that when it occurred it required an expression of gratitude?

I recall that when I was in elementary school back in the 1960’s we were not only graded on the academic piece of our education, but on our citizenship qualities as well: civility, cooperation, truthfulness, responsibility, respect, and the ability to form positive interpersonal relationships. I checked on-line and discovered that these citizenship qualities are required to be taught in some school systems, but not in others. Most distressingly these citizenship qualities are not seen as being particularly important in the systems that do teach them, and certainly not nearly as important as the academics.

This lack of emphasis on good citizenship qualities and the fact that a growing percentage of our population views them as being unimportant, explains much about the current state of affairs our culture finds itself in: A state of affairs that has seen a corrosive and toxic atmosphere invade every aspect of our lives, infecting our populace, and diminishing our citizenship. This has been in no small part due to the internet where the ability to post hateful, scurrilous and untruthful comments has created a milieu that is as capable of great harm, frequently diminishing its positive benefits.  From a Christian perspective, we live in a time where the tenants of the Baptismal Covenant to persevere in resisting evil, respect the dignity of every human being, and seek and serve Christ in all persons are viewed as being quaint, archaic, and even just plain foolish behaviors . . . behaviors of losers.

Now, I’m not an anthropologist but I feel confident that my observations would confirm that this situation is commensurate with the decline of participation in organized religion. While organized, institutional religion is not perfect, it historically has been a place where honesty, truth-telling, and civility have been taught as important qualities of a life well-lived. And in fact, these qualities are part and parcel of the good news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The new commandment to love one another as Jesus has loved us calls us to behave civilly, respectfully, and honestly with one another.

Yet the assault of incivility, untruthfulness and disrespecting people grows daily, and it has taken its toll on our humanity. Sadly, we are growing so accustomed to these behaviors – even while not accepting them - that they are becoming the new normal. It like the rising tides subsuming Venice, one of civilizations greatest treasures: we seem resigned that the forces of global warming and rising seas levels will make this city the next Atlantis. This versus demanding substantive changes of ourselves and of industry and government, to the way we live our lives on this planet earth, our fragile home; working faithfully in the face of a great challenge to save the values and human achievements imbued in this great city.  We have given up hope. This is equally as true as we  are battered by the forces that assault our values: we are tempted to abandon those values, our higher angels, because it can be exhausting to be under constant assault and therefore hopeless as well. We get fatigued. And it just seems easier to just give in and let whatever happens, happen.
 
In Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians, the apostle is writing to a church congregation in the Greek city of Thessalonica. This is a congregation that has rejected the values of the greater Roman culture – a culture that devalued human dignity and life, and offered a peace – the Pax Romana - regulated by force and brutality.  The people of the church now live by a different standard of values offered by the Gospel; they have become citizens of the Reign of God.  Because of that there is intense pressure from the greater culture  on this community to abandon those values and return to the life from which they had come. They are under constant assault to abandon the ways of their faith, the values of their citizenship. 

Paul describes those assaulting the Thessalonians and creating havoc in the church as, “not living according to the tradition,” and as “mere busybodies” who are influenced by “the working of Satan, who uses all power, signs, lying wonders and every kind of wicked deception” to turn people away from Jesus, “because they refused to love the truth.”

He concludes this passage by offering encouragement to his flock; “do not be weary in doing what is right” he tells them. Do not be weary in doing what is right.

Paul’s words of encouragement to an exhausted congregation are as valuable to us today as they were to the Thessalonians two millennia ago.

Just like that small church community, we in our culture are under assault by those who are in opposition to the values of the Hebrew prophets and of Jesus, to the values of our Baptismal Covenant.  Under the weight of the constant barrage of false claims, untruthfulness, lack of civility and disrespect, we, like the Thessalonians, are susceptible to fatigue and burnout. As a result, we are tempted by the satanic forces of evil to abandon our values just to get some relief from the assault.  

But we must not do that. We must resist that temptation. For if we abandon our values, the ways of evil win. Rather we must take heart from Paul and not become weary in doing what is right.

Paul’s is a clarion call for us to take heart and be hopeful,  because despite the darkness, gloom and despair that engulf us,  there is God’s promise to redeem us. This hopefulness is captured  in the Day of the Lord theme that undergirds all three scripture lessons today, as we prepare for Advent.

The prophet Malachi, addresses the abuses and corruption by  the Temple priesthood towards the people they are meant to serve.  He encourages fidelity to the  ways of God, and like Paul, encourages steadfastness in the face of opposition, because redemption is on the way. “See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.”

Those who promote evil and oppose the ways of God will be eradicated, Malachi prophesies. Those who stay the course and are faithful to God’s ways will see the son of righteousness arise. And they will experience healing and renewal of life.
 
In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus also preaches of the end times, that Day of the Lord.  The people of Israel are living under the same brutal yoke of the Roman Empire that the Thessalonians were. In addition, the Temple priesthood were again behaving corruptly toward the people with unfair exchange rates between the Temple shekel and the denarius, for gouging the poor, not to mention making the Temple – Jesus’s father’s house of prayer -  a commercial district. In the times leading up to when God shall redeem these horrid conditions, Jesus says,  there will be false messiahs, wars, insurrections, persecutions and family betrayals. Which sort of sounds like boot camp to prepare us for our family Thanksgiving dinner next week Thursday!

Yet, in spite of all this, Jesus says, “not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls." Be hopeful therefore in God’s promises to eradicate the evil that assaults you, and bring you to a new day.

The word of God as received through the scripture can not only offer us comfort during times of trial, but also hope that ultimately in all things God’s ways, God’s truth, shall prevail.

In our Collect for today we prayed: “Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” In these times of assault on the most sacred values held by our nation and our faith, may we inwardly digest the scriptures so their sustaining word may give us strength to persevere, and the ability to be a people of hope in the world. And may be never weary in doing what is right.

Amen.

All Saints Sunday
Luke 6:20-31
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

We gather this morning to celebrate the confluence of three significant occasions: All Saints Sunday, the in-gathering of our stewardship pledges for 2020, and our 150th anniversary of being established as a parish.  So Happy All Saints, Happy successful stewardship campaign, and Happy Anniversary!
 
A few weeks ago, as we were discussing the jam-packed plans for this weekend, Anthony said to me, “Gee, why not schedule a baptism for Sunday as well, so you cover all the bases?” I did detect a touch of sarcasm in his voice, when he said it.  That would have made for a very full service. Anyway, no baptisms today. But very soon!
 
All Saints is one of the seven major feast days of the Church. Initially it was a feast to honor and lift up the lives of the great saints: Peter, Paul, Mary, (I know, I know, but not them!) John the Baptist, Francis, Martin Luther King.  These were the Christian exemplars; role models of holy living and of how God desired us to live our lives.

Later a day of observance was added to honor the lives of the rest of us. We poor folks who fell short of the mark of the great saints. This day was All Souls Day,  which occurred the day after All Saints. In the past few decades this observance of two separate days – one for the great saints and one for the rest of us souls – has been pretty much left behind in favor of honoring all people as saints of God, or at least having the potential for a saintly life, on All Saints Day.

Our Gradual Hymn, “I Sing a Song of the Saints of God” captures this theology perfectly:

“I sing a song of the saints of God . . . and one was a doctor, one was a queen, one was a shepherdess , one was a soldier, one was a priest . . . they were, all of them saints of God, and I mean, God helping, to be one too.” These lyrics recognize the universality of the sainthood of all people, as long, as the lyrics say, they “love to do Jesus will.”

Just what is Jesus’ will that those saints loved to do?  Well, certainly it was following the distillation of the Mosaic Law that Jesus offered us: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. I would add to that the New Commandment Jesus gave us the night before he died, which was to “love one another as I have loved you.” As Our Presiding Bishop states, “Love is the way!”

Today’s Gospel lesson from Luke’s Sermon on the Plain, lists those ways of loving to do Jesus will that lead to our being saints of God. We begin with the litany of the Beatitudes and Woes, which describe who are blessed, and those who better look out in the world of God’s Reign. They conclude with this summary:

“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

What we have in this passage are commands about love, nonretaliation and forgiveness.  Commands about how we can live lives loving to do Jesus’s will.

Dr. Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minn. writes this about the passage.

“[Jesus] brings satisfaction and belonging to those who suffer from poverty—which includes more than the people who lack money but also the powerless and the disenfranchised. His ministry feeds the hungry . . . and [he has] a penchant for eating with others [whom society rejects.] It also lays a foundation for the hospitality and meal-sharing that are hallmarks of the community he creates. The people who cry, who live in perpetual loss and grief and who have lost hope, will not be forgotten but will experience joy. Exclusion and persecution prove to be no match for those who share in Jesus’ prophetic, liberative ministry.[1]”

A quick word about those “woe” statements and who they apply to: those people who are now rich, well-fed, laughing, and have people speaking well of them.  Woe in this case  is not some curse of damnation, but rather means look out! It’s a forewarning to those people who have wealth, health, and happiness and who take the good things of life for granted, and even worse, do not share those good things with, or comfort those who do not have those things.  When Jesus says woe/look out, it is to induce an amendment of life from ways that are not of God, and to turn to the ways of saintly living that are of God. The woe statements remind us that God intends us all to be members of that great communion of saints, and that in God’s reign saints look out for the well-being of each other . . . not just for themselves. They do so by loving to do the will of Jesus: which is to tend the sick, comfort the afflicted, be companions to the lonely, the imprisoned and bereaved, feed the hungry, cloth the naked, to not judge, to not seek retribution, to be generous with the giving of themselves and what they have, to others.  

For 150 years – in four different edifices, under the spiritual leadership of thirteen different rectors and numerous assisting priests, in times of plenty and in times of scarcity, the people of Christ Episcopal Church have striven to love to do Jesus’ will.
 
We have not always done so perfectly, and at times we have failed miserably.  But after-all we are human, and the really good news of the Christian faith is that God is in the forgiveness business.  Yet each time we did not live up to our saintly potential we heard that loving warning of, look out! And we took that warning to heart and amended our ways of life to be in line with the ways of God’s reign. One has only to look through our lovely commemorative booklet produced for this celebration to see the numerous ways we have done Jesus’ will and loved it!  And that booklet is far from exhaustive in listing all the ways we have done so.  It is why we are still here after 150 years, and why I believe God has another 150 years planned for our doing Jesus’ will.

In a few minutes we will gather-in our pledge commitments of our treasure so that we may determine how we can financially secure our future into the year 2020 and beyond. It is by the generous commitment of those gifts of time, talent and treasure to this parish that we will continue to love to do Jesus’ will. It is by the giving of those gifts that we will emulate all those saints of God – saints like Byrdie Lee, Charlie Buss, Mattie Jackson, John Sanders, Lollie Bailey-Nilson, Molly Vander Hoof, Mo Maloney,  Jim Lightbody, Patricia Burgess, Al Corrado, John Sims, Jim Schiller, Ted Ray, and thousands more -who have gone before us in this parish these past 150 years; and who are a  part of that great communion of saints.  It is by the giving of our gifts in our pledge commitments that we honor those saints, and all saints, and recall that the saints of God are just like us, and we mean to be one too.

Happy Anniversary!
Amen

[1] Dr. Matt Skinner, Working Preacher web page: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4256  November 3, 2019. 

Genesis 32:22-31;2 Timothy 3:14-4:5;Luke 18:1-8
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

All three of our scripture readings today have the common  theme of persistence. 

In the Genesis story we hear of Jacob in a wrestling match.  “A man wrestled with [Jacob] until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob's hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.”  We eventually learn that the man is actually God. Jacob wrestles with God all night long - for hours and hours on end - despite the fact that one would believe God has an advantage over him.  And yet, he persisted. 

God prevailed over Jacob on the mat only when God took an unfair advantage and dislocated his hip.  Yet despite his being made lame, Jacob holds fast to God. “[God] said, "Let me go, for the day is breaking." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me."  You see, Jacob desperately wants God’s blessing. He is returning home to Israel which he  left after he stole his older brother Esau’s birthright through trickery years before.  Jacob believes that Esau wants to destroy him in retribution. If he can wrangle a blessing out of God it will serve to protect him in what he knows will be an inevitable encounter with Esau. But God wants to leave without giving Jacob his blessing.  And yet, he persisted.
 
Because Jacob persevered, God acquiesces and gives Jacob a blessing. Jacob has to be gob-smacked by what his persistence has resulted in: God’s blessing and the fact that he is still alive, for it was believed by the Hebrews that to see God face to face would result in death. In awe and wonder Jacob says, “"For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved." All because, he persisted.
 
In Paul’s second letter to Timothy, Paul advises his younger protégé to persevere in the face of adversity.  Timothy is the leader of a group of churches and responsible for protecting them from destructive outside influences, as well as dissidents from within. “Continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it,” Paul writes him. He continues, “I solemnly urge you: proclaim the message; be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching.” Paul encourages Timothy to persevere in the face of strong opposition. And Timothy prevailed over his opponents, because, he persisted. 
 
In the Gospel of Luke, we hear the parable of the widow and the unjust judge. The unjust judge, “neither feared God nor had respect for people.” I will refrain from drawing any contemporary parallels here! The widow has been wronged by someone and she keeps coming to this judge demanding justice. “Grant me justice against my opponent,” she insists.  But he doesn’t.  This in itself is appalling.  Throughout scripture, widows are counted among the most destitute members of society, alongside other vulnerable groups such as the poor, orphans, and resident aliens, or, as we call them, immigrants. Because of the precarious social and economic position of such groups, biblical texts make provision for them, saying that God calls us to ensure that they do not fall victim to exploitation by others, and are well-looked after.

This widow is one feisty woman! She has been taken advantage of, most likely by unscrupulous predators. She is looking out after her own best interest by repeatedly going to the unjust judge to demand justice.  Eventually the unjust judge thinks to himself, “’because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.'" And so he grants her justice because, she persisted.

This is an instance where the NRSV translation of the scripture takes the punch out of the textual meaning . . . literally. In the original Greek the phrase the NRSV translates as “wear me out” is the verb hypopiazo, which means “to give a black eye.” So, what the original text states is, “because this widow causes trouble for me, I will give her justice, so that she may not, in the end, give me a black eye by her coming!”

Wow!  The widow is a pugilist! Her persistence and call for justice are such that the judge characterizes her actions as those of a boxer. She’s Rocky! And he wants to be rid of her for fear she goes to sucker punch him. So, he gives her justice because, she persisted.

Now this imagery of the widow as a boxer, ready to take on the judge is a humorous one.  It’s funny; worthy of a SNL skit. But the jokes not on the widow. “New Testament scholar F. Scott Spencer rightly recognizes, the humor in this scene is not one of comic relief. The humor in this scene instead pokes fun at the powers-that-be, “lampooning and upending the unjust system stacked against widows, orphans, immigrants, and the like.”[1] Like our political cartoons today, Jesus’ parable encourages us to laugh at those who wield their power unethically. We laugh, though, in order to challenge such figures, and ultimately, to offer a different way.”[2]

We may initially laugh at the image of an older, frail woman as a boxer.  But the one who is the butt of the joke is the judge, a buffoon who is the antithesis of God’s mercy.  In God’s eyes the joke’s always on the one who doesn’t look out for widows, orphans and immigrants; on the person who makes their lives harder, more miserable by their callousness and lack of respect for people and God.

Jesus promises us that God will vindicate these “little ones” against those who inflict hardship on them, or who fail to use their power to alleviate their plight.  God does not protect the property and monetary interests, or the immoral behaviors and desires, of the powerful and privileged who defy God’s ways. And God will never condone those who support those who do so.

Rather God is compassionate, ready to respond to the needs of the powerless and distressed. Jesus is crystal clear in stating this truth; the ways of God’s reign call for our priorities to be based on compassion.

To emphasize this Jesus compares and contrasts the judge to God. He tells his listeners, “And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night?” In other words, if a recalcitrant, compassionless judge who has no respect for people eventually gives what is needed, then God, who is full of compassion for the beleaguered of the world, will do so with enthusiasm. God doesn’t need to be badgered or cajoled into doing so. 

In this parable God is like the widow, (and at least in her willingness to fight for what she needs, like Jacob) in her own relentless commitment to getting what is needed to gain justice. And she did so because, she persisted.

Jesus tells us to pray night and day – to be persistent like the widow, and Timothy, and Jacob – in seeking God’s guidance and companionship to bring about justice and mercy for all people. To persistently pray to God, asking that we be given the wear-with-all and the chutzpah to become persistent boxers and wrestlers against the powers-that-be who ignore the pleas of the needy and marginalized.  To be willing to give a metaphorical black eye to those who defy God’s reign. To laugh at the pompous buffoons of the world, challenging them in their egregious behaviors and ultimately, to let them know there is a different way; the way   love which is a power that  can never be defeated or overcome because it is of God.

My companion followers of Jesus, let’s go to the mat for God, and as Paul writes Timothy in his first letter, “pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness. [And] fight the good fight of the faith.” (1 Tim. 6:11b – 12a)

In our prayers let us beseech the Creator that we become pugilists for God, and that in so doing we move God’s reign ever closer, because, we persisted.
 
Amen.


[1]F. Scott Spencer, Salty Wives, Spirited Mothers, and Savvy Widows: Capable Women of Purpose and Persistence in Luke’s Gospel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), 292-93.
 

[2] Brittany E. Wilson, Assistant Professor of New Testament, Duke Divinity School, Durham, N.C., Working Preacher commentary on Luke 18:1-8. https://www.workingpreacher.org.

The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

I love the ocean!  I spend ten days of vacation each August in Ogunquit, Maine, a place that has a stunning three-mile long, white, sandy beach, as well as a mile-long path called the Marginal Way, that runs along craggy rocked shore-line with gorgeous views of the Atlantic ocean. I call this time there my annual ocean fix, which is crucial to my mental and spiritual health and well-being.

Nothing like the ocean restores my weary body and soul. The sea is the Balm of Gilead for me. And like good liturgy, which I also love,  the sea touches all five of my senses: the sound of the waves, the briny smell of the spray, the salty taste, the ever-changing colorful seascapes that the sun, moon and stars play upon the ocean’s surface, and – at least in Maine, where the average August water temperature is in the high 50’s – the bracing, invigorating and then numbing effect of the cold water on your skin.  The ocean makes me feel alive, because in so many ways the ocean itself is alive. It is living water. 

One of the joyful pleasures of on the seashore is walking on the beach and watching young children encounter the ocean – this living water - for the very first time. Have you ever done this? Watched little children at the seashore and discover the water? It’s truly one of life’s pleasures.

Watching little children, somewhere between the ages of one and four years old, encounter the sea for the first time is to remember what joy and wonderment are all about.

Now the ocean can initially be a little intimidating for the uninitiated, especially little kids.  Many who are hesitant to get up close are introduced to the sea by an adult picking them up and slowly carrying them into the surf, allowing all their senses to be engaged by the water slowly and safely. Yet many children get this look of trepidation on their faces as the adult moves into deeper waters. They are unsure of what to expect and not sure they want to go any deeper . . . even safely embraced in adult arms.

Then the adult slowly lowers the hesitant child so that a foot gets wet and they feel for the first time that delicious cold salt-water moving on their skin. Or maybe a larger wave breaks and the salt spray covers the child and the adult, inducing a moment of shock on the child’s face, which quickly transforms in to joy and wonder and glee.  It’s an aha moment. Before long the child wants to be let down, so that they can run back and forth as the waves ebb and flow on the shore; it’s the as if the child is playing a game of tag with the ocean.

And oh, the shouts of glee and laughter that peal forth from the child as they play in these living waters.   It is a joy and wonder to behold. And I have not even mentioned the sand, sea shells, starfish, periwinkles, gulls and crabs, yet!
 
(At the 10:30 service) (In a few moments) we are going to baptize Fionnan Miquel into the household of God.  In the liturgy we will pray one of my favorite prayers in the Book of Common Prayer.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you that by water and the Holy
Spirit you have bestowed upon this your servant the
forgiveness of sin, and have raised him to the new life of
grace. Sustain him, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit. Give him
an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to
persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and [my absolute favorite phrase] the gift of joy and wonder in all your works. Amen.” 
 
That’s precisely what little children encountering the sea are doing: expressing “the gift of joy and wonder in all [God’s] works.” The magnificence and the beauty of the sea that God has created induces this exuberant expression of joy and awe in them. It’s the same joy and awe when a child first encounters any number of things for the first time: a bug, a fragrant flower, a puppy, a kitten, ice cream!  Each brings about one of those aha moments, as the child expresses the gift of joy and wonder in all that God has made. 
 
As we baptize Fionnan Miquel, we celebrate that gift of joy and wonder. That’s our prayer for him today as he encounters the living waters of baptism; that he retains that gift of joy and wonder in his life; even as he grows into adulthood, and the changes and chances of live threaten to wear him down, inducing cynicism and even a loss of hope. That in those moments of despair or hard-heartedness, he will reconnect to the innocence of his childhood and remember that life is full of awe and wonder and that taking delight in God’s gifts can move him from despair to renewed hope.  Allowing him to laugh with glee and joy as he revels in the goodness of all God has given us. We need to pray that very same thing for ourselves, as well.

We live in very cynical times; times when the despair quotient seems to exponentially increase daily.  When compared against other western nations our nation falls further and further down the happiness scale each year. The number of people who find little happiness in life grows with each depressing, seemingly hopeless, event in our national life. The lack of common decency and civility, the legitimation of hate and violence against people who are not white, straight, supposedly Christian, and wealthy, the growing economic disparities, the reckless behaviors and verbiage that put people’s lives in danger, all these and more add to our lack of hippiness, national despair and a loss of hope.  In the book of Proverbs, we are told that where there is no vision the people perish. I would observe when there is no vision, there is no hope, and when there is no hope, people perish.  Our current lack of a coherent and healthy vision for the future for us as a people, means we have less and less hope, and therefore we are in danger of perishing.

Fionnan’s baptism today, and the joy and awe that we witness in our children as they encounter the Creation and all of life, are the antidote to our despair and loss of hope. They can heal us, allowing us to live and thrive if we hold them as the great gift from a Creator who loves us; a Creator who wants nothing more than for us to live joyfully as God’s children; as joyfully as children encountering with awe and wonder all the goodness of life.  

In our reading from 2 Kings, Naaman the Syrian general who has leprosy, is an object lesson of how we can move from cynicism and a loss of joy in life, to new life that revels in joy and wonder at all that God gives and does for us.

When Naaman is told by the prophet Elisha, to wash in the waters of the Jordan to cure his leprosy, he is not only cynical, he is disdainful. Why bother with such a simple act? Won’t it take a more elaborate process to cure him?  After all, he is a general, an important man. He is so wrapped up in himself, he can’t see the gift of God being offered to him. 

Wiser minds prevail and convince him to do as the prophet says. And he does so and is healed of his leprosy. We are to told, “[Naaman’s] flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.”  I believe that his mind and his spirit were also restored to that of a young boy, as well. Because in those living waters of the Jordan river, he rediscovers the joy and wonder of God’s goodness and love for him. 

As we call down the Holy Spirit upon the waters of baptism today they will become living waters; the waters of God that heal and bring us new, authentic life in Christ. Like the living ocean waters of Ogunquit that bring such joy to children, these living waters of baptism remind us of our own youthful, less cynical selves and invite us to reclaim the joy and wonder in life that God gives to us.  There is immense blessing in that. And in that blessing we can become restorers of hope, joy, awe and wonder of God’s love for us to the world. That is holy work, indeed!
 
Amen

Homecoming Sunday
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector
 
This morning we hear the familiar parable of the lost sheep and the lost coin.  Jesus tells this parable in response to the religious authorities who are grumbling that he associated with people they considered to be sinners.

We need to understand the term sinners here with a few grains of salt.  Religious authorities have applied the term pretty wantonly, using their own prejudices – and not the Gospel - to determine who was engaged in sinful behaviors; behavior such as dancing, playing cards, drinking, being divorced, engaging in sexual intimacy before marriage, marrying outside of your faith, marrying a person of a different race, being LGBTQ, sparing the rod in child rearing, having an illness, not being rich. I recall a church in New Hampshire that excommunicated a woman and her family because she worked as a waitress in a restaurant that served alcohol. She herself didn’t drink, but because she served alcohol her church considered her to be a sinner. So, they cast her out. Historically the list of behavior deemed sinful by religious leaders is seemingly infinite.

Jesus repeatedly, in word and deed, defied the religious authority’s idea of sinful behavior.  When the religious authorities said that being blind, deaf or lame was due to sinful behavior by the afflicted person or their parents, Jesus said it was not. When the religious authorities proclaimed that being rich was a blessing from God and therefore being poor was God’s judgment, Jesus said it was not. When the religious authorities said that helping a person in distress on the Sabbath was a sin, Jesus said it was not.

And even when certain behaviors were sinful, like tax collectors gouging people, or engaging in prostitution or committing adultery, Jesus said that all people – even sinners - are worthy of redemption if they amended their sinful ways. That is why Jesus associated with them, to help show them a better way of life by affirming their being beloved children of God.  The religious authorities said that was not possible; once you sinned you were done and out, and sometimes even dead.

When we people of faith want to engage in the dicey business of determining sinful behavior – I’m thinking of the names Falwell and Graham here - we would all do well to recall Jesus’ pronouncement in the story of the woman caught in adultery.  When all the religious folks wanted to stone her to death – the penalty for adultery – Jesus said, ““Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Realizing their hypocrisy, everyone puts down their stones and walks away. Jesus’ desire was to redeem this woman, not condemn her.  Jesus then says, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.” (John 8:10)

This woman is a lost sheep who Jesus finds and brings back into the fold, the flock of the children of God, which is all of us.

Ergo the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin.  Notice that both the shepherd and the woman go to great lengths to find what has been lost. They are relentless and stop at nothing. The shepherd leaves the ninety-nine sheep and doesn’t stop searching until he finds the lost one. The woman lights a lamp to brightly illumine the house and then she sweeps and sweeps and sweeps until she finds the lost coin. (BTW This is a person I need as a housekeeper!)

Such is the intrinsic value of what has been lost that no effort is too onerous in finding what was lost and restoring them to the flock or the coin purse.

In both parables Jesus is the shepherd and the woman.  And in telling these parables, he reminds us that his life and ministry are always about imprinting on us the ways of God’s reign. As Jesus’ followers that is our goal; to have the Good News of the Gospel imprinted on us and for us to be like Jesus in our lives.

There’s a wonderful blog titled “Nakedpastor.com. Graffiti on the Walls of Religion” by David Hayword.  David is a gifted graphic artist and his blog is comprised of sharp and often biting editorial cartoons critical of a lot of religious practice; practice that is contrary to what Jesus desires to imprint on us in the Gospel.

One of these powerful drawings shows Jesus standing with a lost rainbow-colored sheep which he has found and is now restoring to the fold. Jesus and this sheep are facing the rest of the flock, who are at the gate of the sheepfold. The lead sheep at the gate says to Jesus, “Oh, he’s not lost, we threw him out.”

Hayword’s cartoon is a poignant reminder that we often throw out of the flock those whom God says are valuable members of it. This is a vivid example of how religious people often determine sinful behavior in contradiction to what Jesus would have us do.

Today is Homecoming Sunday.  As we re-gather as a congregation for a new program year, it is important to recognize that this parish has been very intentional in discerning how Jesus desires to imprint the ways of God’s reign on us, and then for us to welcome those sheep who have been thrown out of other churches. To a large degree we have attracted these lost sheep. If you look around at our parish you will see divorced people, inter-racial and inter-faith marriages, LGBTQ folks, bi-racial people, people who are poor and rich, people who are healthy and people with declining health, people of strong faith and people who wrestle with their faith, people who are married, and those who are not, but clearly are in love with another person. And all are welcome, because all are valued members of the flock by the sheer fact that all are beloved children of God. Ultimately nothing else matters.

We do not cast out at Christ Church, but rather we welcome the lost sheep of the world. 

But a critical question we need to ask ourselves is, how much do we actively seek the lost, leaving everything and relentlessly searching for them, rather than waiting for them to find us?

I would postulate, not too often. Which leads me to an observation: There is one thing we have cast out – often without recognizing we do so.  We Episcopalians are not too eager to go out and seek lost sheep.  In our reticence to do so,  what has been thrown out is our ability to articulate to others what  we have in this congregation; the Good News of Jesus that is imprinted on us.  All too often, speaking with confidence about are faith and the beautiful diverse flock we belong to, becomes our lost sheep, our lost coin. If we are to gather other lost sheep, and not just let them find us, then we need to recover what we have cast out. The lost voice of our Gospel faith must be found, or sticking with the metaphor,  brought back into the flock first.  Because if we don’t do that, too many lost sheep will only hear the voice of that lead sheep in Hayword’s cartoon: “Oh, he’s not lost, we threw him out,” and they will then believe that that sort of hateful exclusion defines all religious communities.

Okay, what I’m am about to say is not a political endorsement. Heaven knows I’ve had enough issues this year without having the IRS hound me.  Rather it’s a religious endorsement. There is a candidate who is running for president this year who has – astonishingly– brought the lost sheep of the voice of Gospel faith back into the public square. I think we are all aware that the only voices of faith in the public square these past few decades have been those of the cast-out variety, and not the let’s go look for the lost sheep variety. So, what we are left with are political leaders who either embrace the cast out religious types, creating a society that in opposition to God’s reign, or those politicians who are afraid to speak of faith at all for fear of being perceived as being one of the cast-out variety.  They, like us, have lost the voice of Gospel based faith.  And frankly, considering our current state of affairs, it is imperative that what has become lost needs to be found if we are to have a just and loving society.

This is why it so refreshing and hopeful, to see someone – who happens to be Episcopalian, no less – articulate their faith and how it has formed them as a follower of Jesus, as well as how the Gospel informs how they lead as an elected official.  And more to the point, they are not afraid to do so, but eager to talk about how Jesus imprints their life.

This is a person who is a relentless seeker of the lost and who desires to restore all people to the flock of our society.

We need to use this person as an example of how to do the same.  To speak confidently and without fear about the Good News we have at Christ Church. That this parish is a place where the imprint of Jesus has us not only welcoming those who are lost or have been thrown out, but actively seeks and brings them back into the fold of the loving arms of God that we extend to them. 

By doing so we become healers of a broken society and the Reign of God comes closer to becoming fully realized. And we, like the shepherd and the woman, can proclaim, ‘Rejoice with me, for what was lost, has been found!’
 
Amen. 

Luke 24:1-12
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia! 
 
"’I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.’”

These words of Peter from the Book of Acts are spoken to the Roman centurion, Cornelius, and other gentiles in Cornelius’ home, after Peter has a revelatory dream about who can be included in the membership of the early Christian church. Up until that dream it was required by the church elders that to be a member of the church one had to follow the Jewish law, including dietary restrictions and male circumcision.  Peter’s epiphany, which was a message from God, caused him to have a change of heart. Where he once believed that partiality needed to be shown toward who could be a part of the Church, he now doesn’t. God showed him otherwise. All are able to be included as long as they honored God and did what was acceptable to God: Which translates as following the way of life that Jesus taught us as he preached the unfolding reign of God.   
 
In that revelation to Peter, God explodes the norms that guided the religious society of that day. Norms that were restrictive and exclusive were set aside, and new norms of inclusion and radical welcome were set in place. 
 
How are we doing with that folks? How are we living into the norms of God’s reign that Jesus preached? How are we doing showing no partiality toward others? Others who we may find different from us and may want to exclude, but rather doing what is right and acceptable to God, which is to love them? How are we individually and as a society, doing with that?

I would venture to say poorly.  In fact, instead there has been an increase in showing partiality – even what I would call hyper-partiality - and of excluding others who we don’t think fit into the fabric of our country, our neighborhoods, our schools, and our churches, over the past few years.   
 
So extreme are some elements of this trend of showing partiality, that the norms of our society and of God’s reign are being ignored, and even at times maligned, as not being of God.
 
In a New York Times op-ed piece recently titled, “People Can Savage Social Norms, but Also Revive Them,” columnist David Brooks speaks to the current assault on norms that we as a culture and nation once held dear.
 
He writes, “A culture is made up of norms — simple rules that govern what thoughts, emotions and behaviors are appropriate at what moment. It’s appropriate to be appalled when people hit their dogs. It’s inappropriate to ask strangers to tell you their income.”
 
‘Most norms are invisible most of the time. They’re just the water in which we swim. We unconsciously absorb them by imitating those around us. We implicitly know that if we violate a norm, there will be a social cost, maybe even ostracism.”
 
Some of the norms that Brooks is speaking of are civility, common courtesy, mutual respect, which includes not verbally or physically abusing others, and just plain old common decency. In times past these were the norms that guided society and allowed us to live together in reasonable harmony.

Yet these norms are being flaunted, often with glee. And in many circles instead of people who do so being ostracized by others - or at the least challenged - they are being encouraged, being lifted up as good people with a noble cause. At times it gets so extreme it seems as if a new blood sport has come into vogue in savaging these previously accepted norms, which are being thrown to the lions like so many Christians during Roman persecutions of the faith.
 
Brooks observes, “We’re living in a moment when norms are in maximum flux. [Those in public office] have smashed through hundreds of our established norms and given people permission to say things, [and I would observe, do things as well] that were unsayable [and, again, I would add, undoable] just a decade ago. Especially in politics, the old rules of decorous behavior no longer apply.”
 
Yet, some norms are eternal and should never be disregarded, and certainly not savaged. These eternal norms find their genesis in the sacred texts of the Jewish and Christian scriptures. Norms like: caring and providing for the alien and stranger in our midst.  Seeking after the welfare of widows, orphans, the sick and vulnerable, the poor. Protecting those imperiled by violence. Living the values of the Beatitudes.  Seeking Christ in all persons. Loving those who don’t love us. Respecting the dignity of every human being. These are the norms of God’s reign that Jesus and the prophets proclaimed; norms which have undergirded the norms of civil society.

It was in upholding the values of these eternal norms of God that Jesus was scourged, crucified and died.   He was savaged by those who saw those norms of non-violence, radical respect and love as being of little or no value.
 
The Resurrection of Jesus from the grave is God’s response to Jesus’ death, and the attempt to negate those norms he proclaimed. Resurrection is God’s validation of what Jesus preached about the poor, the outcast, the penitent, the marginalized, the despised. Despite anyone’s best attempts you cannot kill those norms that God lifts up in Jesus’ Resurrection, just like you can’t kill Jesus, because those norms find their source in God. They are eternal.

Resurrection of these norms in our own time is to be our response to those who have savaged them. Paraphrasing David Brooks, people can savage these eternal norms, but that God, through us, can resurrect them.

The theologian, Amy-Jill Levine states that, “The whole message of the Bible, and specifically of the kingdom of Heaven, is to see the world otherwise: as God wants it to be rather than as it is.”  That’s why we who profess faith in Jesus need to resurrect these norms. We see the world otherwise. We see the world the way God wants it to be. And as we see in the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead, God will not be thwarted by anyone who would savage the ways of God.

On this Resurrection Sunday, we are called to work toward resurrecting decency and civility. We are called to resurrect non-violence and the complete welcome of the other. We are called to resurrect mutual respect and honor the dignity of every human being.

These are the norms of God’s reign. They are the norms that Jesus died for and for which God raised him from the dead.

The empty tomb represents the triumph of those norms over the way of savagery, of hope re-renewed in what Jesus taught and preached. They are an invitation to participate in God’s work of building God’s reign through Jesus Christ. For us this Easter and every day that follows may it be so.
​
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Daniel Francis

Why?

Betrayal by his friends and colleagues, condemnation by the community that raised him, scorn and mockery, taunting and humiliation, torture, an excruciating execution, and finally death. As we reflect on this, our Lord’s Passion, the thing that seems most important is that question why did he do it?
The answer may seem familiar to you, but I’d like to take the time to tell the story of the answer to this question as it played it out in my own life. And it’s my prayer that something in this story will resonate with you today.

It was late spring/early summer in my little town of Berrien Springs in rural Michigan. The sun was shining, the skies were blue, but if you had the chance to see me that day, I suspect that you would have assumed that the sky was slate gray from the brooding, stormy, look on my face. I had a copy of the complete works of William James in my hand (I was in college), and I was seriously thinking about throwing this Christianity thing in the garbage and becoming perhaps a religious skeptic like James was. Because I realized that the Church I loved didn’t really love people like me.

To be a gay college student in a rural Midwest Christian college town, is very challenging. Especially if you were a Theology major, which I was at the time.  But it didn’t bother me much at first. I’d grown up in a very unique version of conservative Christianity that my whole family had, in one way or another, dedicated their lives to for generations. And I fully expected to continue in their footsteps. When it slowly dawned on me in High-School that I was “one of those”, people, I thought to myself that as long as I followed the rules of our denomination, which was if you’re gay don’t be in any relationships, I was fine. So I’d just ignore that part of life, and get on with the rest of it.  A recent Presidential candidate who grew up not 20 minutes south of where I lived in a similar climate didn’t come out of the closet until he was 34! And I definitely planned to exceed that example.

It was fine, for a while. But as the controversy about whether gay relationships were valid heated up in my denomination, and the topic of gay Christians started to be discussed more and more on my college campus, I began to realize that what I believed didn’t just affect me and my personal life, it affected the lives of all of the other people around me. The people I was hoping to minister too. I also realized that in regions of the world where people who thought like my Church did had more influence in the political process, being gay was illegal. People went to jail. Were being tortured and beaten, even killed. Just for who they were. And the reasons given for this brutal treatment were often the same arguments that my Denomination made for why they were against gay relationships. In some of these countries, the people making these arguments were members of my own church.

I began to realize that these teachings caused harm, but, even more significantly, I began to realize that we didn’t HAVE to teach these things. We were choosing to interpret and apply the Bible in ways that were causing people unnecessary harm, for reasons that had nothing to do with science or facts, but only a conviction, that a group of people were inferior to others. And realizing that the Church that I loved, that had taught me to love others, to be just and honest and true and good, and fight for the oppressed, and stand up to things that caused others harm. That this Church that I had dedicated my life to could be involved in anything like that. It broke me.

I realized for the first time that my Church wasn’t safe for me or people like me. And if my church wasn’t safe, what Church was? Maybe Christianity was too dangerous a faith to be a part of. Maybe all religion was. This is where I was at that sunny day, as I wandered the roads of my little town.
But as I walked along the road a song started playing in my head:

“Jesus, blood, never failed me yet, never failed me yet, Jesus blood, never failed me yet, this one thing I know, that he loves me so”.

Again and again that song penetrated my head and my heart. I repeated it over and over as I walked along the road. I thought about all the good things God had done for me and my family through the years. All the miracles wrought, all the strength our faith had given us, all the love we experienced as members of this flawed, broken, but spirit infused body of our Lord Jesus Christ. And I reflected on the One who chose, of His own free will to become incarnate by the virgin Mary and suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified died and was buried for me and for you and for everyone. And I looked up at that sunny sky and I said: “Jesus, I know who you are. You would never give up on me, so I won’t give up on you”.

I made a lot of changes in my life after that. But as you can see, I’m still here, in the Christian faith, because of this night when God, who so loved the world, gave his only Son so that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life. That’s John 3:16. 1 John 3:16 says: “We know love by this that he laid down his life for us”.

So why did Jesus suffer all of these things? Why did he die, such an ignominious death? And why does it matter? It matters because every time we hear this story on Good Friday, we remember once again about Christ’s love that can change our lives and transform our world into the paradise of love and friendship that it was always meant to be.

Amen.

Luke 19:28-40 
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

There’s a Holy Week prayer that states, “O Holy Jesus, we remember that many who claimed you as King on Palm Sunday shouted ‘Crucify’ on Friday.” 

What caused the crowds who hailed Jesus with their wildly enthusiastic Hosanna’s on Palm Sunday to turn against Jesus so that they wanted him dead and gone by Good Friday?

Those sage theologians Mick Jagger and Keith Richards offer some crucial insight into this question when they sing: 
 
“You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes well you might find
You get what you need.”
                                                Mick Jagger and Keith Richards
 
The Rolling Stones would have understood what the crowds in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and Good Friday did not:  that in Jesus they were not going to get what they wanted, but in Jesus they would end up getting what they needed.

You see the crowds who hailed Jesus as King, waving palm branches and throwing down their cloaks before him, did so because they wanted a Messiah who would lead them to overthrow the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire. They wanted a warrior, a mighty leader of King David’s lineage.  As the events of Holy Week unfolded and Jesus did not so much as lift a finger to organize an insurrection, (in fact he prevented any violence on the part of his followers,) these same crowds came to the realization they were not going to get the Messiah they wanted.  And so, in their eyes he was a failure, a disappointment and they turned on him.  By Friday those who had proclaimed, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord” were screaming for Jesus’ blood. When Pilate presented the arrested Jesus to the crowds saying, “Here is your King!” the crowds cried out, “Away with him! Crucify him!” (Jn. 19:14c, 15a)

William Temple, one of the great Archbishop’s of Canterbury once said, “If you have a false idea of God, the more religious you are, the worse it is for you - it were better for you to be an atheist.”

That’s the lesson we can learn from the crowds in Jerusalem that final week of Jesus’ life.  False images of God always lead to huge disappointment for those who see themselves as being religious.  Our false ideas of God will lead us to believe that God has failed us, because we don’t get what we want.  

But it doesn’t only lead to disappointment; the failure of our false images can incite people to resentment, hatred, revenge, betrayal and violence.  Not getting the god we want infuses people with hideous ugliness.

Look at the current debate in the public square with voices of progressive Christians rising up against right-wing Evangelicals who have created a god they want; a god of hatred, exclusion, and even violence, but deny the God they need, which is the one and only God, the God of radical inclusion, non-violence and love.  And as we have witnessed, when political leaders follow the gods they want, it leads not only to bad public policy, but an endangered society.  When the false god you want encounters the God you need, things can get very ugly.

Which god do we profess? The one we want or the one we need?  The one we pray, “thy will be done” to, or the one we say, “my will be done” too. 
 
When we don’t get what we want, when things do not turn out the way we desire, when we believe God doesn’t answer our prayers, or at least doesn’t answer them in the way we want, we ask “Why?”

I am sure the people who wanted Jesus to lead an insurrection against Rome and instead got a non-violent, pacifist, asked “Why?”  

“We thought you were the one. Why did you fail us? Why did you let yourself get arrested? Why didn’t you fight, draw swords? Why did you have to die on a cross? The Messiah’s not supposed to get crucified.”

I know plenty of people who struggle with serious doubts and even have left their faith behind because they keep asking God similar “why” questions. Why did this person have to die? Why do I have cancer? Why do millions go hungry every day? Why did I loose my job? And when they do not get the answer they want their faith crumbles, some even leave their faith, even calling it false.   Oddly enough this fulfills Archbishop Temple’s observance that they would be better of being an atheist.  But is what they need still present in the God they think has failed them?  

The truth is, God is not absent when the why questions come up in life. We just get  focused on what we want that we fail to see the presence of  the God we need. 

Jesus also had his moments when it all didn’t make sense to him. Moments of fear, doubt, feeling abandoned by God as he endured some of the worst “why” evoking treatment any human being could imagine.  In the Garden of Gethsemane he prayed to God, “If it be possible let this cup pass from my lips. Never the less, not my will, but your will be done.”  In that plaintive prayer we understand that Jesus can’t get what he wants, because if he did, we would not have the Messiah we need.

Brian McLaren writes this about Jesus in Gethsemane: “Jesus is trusting God. He believes that, whatever happens, God can turn it for good. I have tried, but I have never succeeded in imagining a trust more naked and pure than this.” McLaren says.

In the midst of facing unspeakable suffering, pain, humiliation, abandonment and death, Jesus trusts God.

His is an incomparable witness of being the Messiah we need, not the one we want. And he does this for us.
 
On the night before he died, at that last meal with his disciples, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and gave to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given . . . for you.”

And he says this to people for whom he was the biggest disappointment: the man who would betray him, the man who would deny him three times before the morning dawned, the men who would run from him like so many rats deserting a sinking ship when he was arrested.   

“This is my body, which is given . . . for you.”

And he gave his body for us as well. Everything Jesus endures – including our false ideas of who he should be - he does for us so that we might have life and light and hope in his name: Even for those who profess the false gods we want, even for those who are disappointed in him; even for those who have abandoned him; even those who no longer believe.
 
My sisters and brother, if you try to get to Easter without going through Good Friday you end up with a false god.  You may believe that to be a perpetually happy god who will make you always feel good. But ultimately, that god will let you down and let you down hard. Because of your pain, fears, and uncertainties this happy god may be the one you want, but that god has no ability to provide you with hope or light or new life; only of temporarily forgetting your problems. This is a god who is an escape from reality, a god who anesthetizes you with false promises.   That god is impotent. That god has no ability to turn the worst that life will bring you into anything good. This is not a god to place our trust in.  Although you may want this god, you don’t need this god.

That’s the lesson of Holy Week.  In all it’s myriad events we witness the God we need: the authentic God of compassion and forgiveness and radical love, the God who comes to know our human pain and suffering – (who bears the scars of our wounds) and who then over-comes it all - including death itself - through love. 
​
Trusting in God’s desire to bring good out of all things, Jesus got to Easter.  In Jesus we get the God we need. We get the God who actually saves us from those false gods.  Because of that with Jesus we too will get to Easter and new, resurrected life. Thanks be to God!                Amen.

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

​Do any of you know people who are perpetually looking for something to be aggrieved about? You know the type: the person who, regardless of how good or joyful something is, will always, always find something is wrong with it, and then be affronted. I call these folks the “champagne-de-bubblers”: people who get a lovely flute of French champagne and commence to take a stir rod and vigorously mix it, removing all the glorious effervescence. Leaving it flat and lifeless.
 
The older son in this parable of the two sons and the father, is definitely a “champagne-de-bubbler.” He is aggrieved and deeply affronted by how his father welcomes his prodigal son home. He expects dad to punish and even disown his younger son, casting him back into the wilderness of famine and destitution, but instead dad gives him a hoe-down and beef barbeque, welcoming the younger son back with great joy.  
 
Okay, I get it. This parable rubs you the wrong way. It gets your hackles up. It’s up there with that dissonant parable of the workers in the field, who regardless of how many hours they have labored under the hot sun, doing back-breaking work, all get paid the same wage by the field owner. It’s not fair, it’s not just, we think. Merit counts, and the longer we work the more we should be compensated. 
I know many of us will hear this parable of the reprobate younger son and think the same thing: Merit counts and of course the older son is aggrieved because he has worked hard, is obedient, and loyal to his father, and then he – in his mind’s eye - gets nothing. Bubkes, as they say in the Yiddish. In the meantime, the greedy, debauched, wasteful, and disloyal younger son, who has frittered away a large portion of the family patrimony, has the chutzpah to come back home, hat-in-hand, looking for food and shelter.

The older son has every right, we think, to be aggrieved and angry with his father. We would feel the very same way, if faced with a similar situation. And we would be just and right to do so.

Except this parable isn’t about what we believe is right and wrong. It is not about our retributive concept of justice.

This parable – as are all the parables of Jesus - is about relationships. It is about how will we treat another person who has behaved badly? Will we forgive as we have been forgiven? Will we love as we have been loved?

Or will we default to the ways of the world and bear grudges, seek vengeance, be aggrieved, shunning or disowning people we see as being in the wrong, and in the process make them an exile, putting them out of the family, out of the community?

All too often in situations where we see someone behaving contrary to what we understand as being right and just, we demand our rights. Because, well, we have rights! And we place those rights, (and their attendant feelings) over and above our relationship with others. We see our rights as being first and foremost.

Yet is this true for God? Let’s look more closely at this story. 

The younger son has asked for his relationships to be healed. He knows he has broken his relationships with his father and family by his disgraceful behavior.  He has violated all that was sacred in family and community bonds.   He knows this, and so does not even ask to be restored to filial privileges, to have his rights as a blood heir recognized. What he says is, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."
 
He didn’t ask for forgiveness, because even he believes his actions as being beyond it. He merely confessed. He’s just looking for enough to eat so he doesn’t starve. He’s not seeking grace. Yet to his surprise, he receives it. Abundantly.
 
And the father?  Well, before he even hears the younger son’s confession, he jumps up and runs toward him.
 
“But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.” Dad didn’t even have to hear a word uttered. It is enough to see his son who had broken relationship with him, and all that was valuable to the family, return home. The father’s response is more than the son could ever had dreamed of.  Because right relationship is paramount in God’s family.
 
Now look at the older son.  He feels that the relationship between the younger son and the family have be irreparably damaged. That based on his values of right and wrong, the younger son is beyond redemption. He represents all of us who think this way as well. We who live by human precepts of justice and merit, and place our pride, fueled by our rectitude, over and above restoring relationship, healing divisions, and offering grace. The parable shows that those who live by these standards can never know the joy of grace.  They can’t hoe-down and party, enjoying great barbeque, when others receive the grace we would deny them.

You know, when you have siblings, you cannot be a daughter or a son, without being a sister or a brother, as well.
 
Several years ago, my sister chose to become estranged from me. I’m not sure of the exact reasons because she refused to speak with me, despite my imploring her to do so, repeatedly. She was going through her second divorce at the time and I was coming into a good relationship, which may have been a partial reason for her distancing.  But I’m not really sure, and all I can do is speculate. I suspect the reasons are complex – at least for her -and therefore difficult to articulate. Our distance has grown over the years. Initially there was some contact, with greeting cards exchanged at holidays and birthdays. And then those just stopped when a birthday card from me to her came back marked as undeliverable. Since then I have learned – thank you, Google – that she lives in Florida.  From what I can glean it’s not a great life she is living.  Although I am very mindful that’s my subjective older brother viewpoint. It may not be hers.

We are one of two siblings and the only remaining living members of our family. Because of this, the loss of the relationship seems enormous.  We have no other family. We are it and we are what we’ve got. And so the broken relationship is not pretty, at least for me.  In fact, it’ s often painful. I think about my sister every day. And my emotions about the estrangement run the gamut.  I am frequently disappointed and sad. Sometimes I feel aggrieved, as if a great injustice has been visited on me. At other times, especially at holidays and celebrations, I feel lonely.  And occasionally the breach induces anger and resentment within me. Look at all we’re missing, I think. Life’s runway is short and getting shorter.  How painful would our estrangement be to our deceased mother.  

I share this personal experience with you because I know many – maybe all – of us have similar circumstances in our lives; where we are estranged, for whatever reason, from someone who we once held close. Who we had bonds of relationship with.   And then circumstances occurred where something was done to betray that relationship. It could be with a sibling, a parent, a formerly beloved friend, whomever.

And the temptation in these situations to respond by being the older brother in the parable - to feel aggrieved and angry and resentful – is powerful.  It is a temptation to reciprocate the separation and to tell ourselves, just wait until I have a chance to get even. Just wait until she comes to her senses and calls and comes to visit and I have an opportunity to bring my human understanding of what is right and wrong, my values of what justice is, to bear upon her. 

It’s mighty tempting, and of course as a person of faith, I know it’s wrong. Because I have a sister and I need to be her brother, if the opportunity presents itself, to be back in right relationship with her.

So, my prayer is that if she stops ignoring and rejecting me I will be the father in the parable. That I will have the grace to offer grace if she does come home, and that I will not even wait to hear what she has to say to me to give her that grace because love requires no confession or restitution.  I pray I be filled with compassion and run out as fast as my legs can carry me to embrace and kiss her. And then I will make a reservation at Fire or L’Albatros and order up champagne and a great feast to celebrate, because at this juncture of my journey I know the relationship is everything.

And I pray that the older brother, always lurking inside of me, will join in the celebration and not stay outside pouting and feeling wronged. Because to do so is to cast myself into the outer darkness. 

And I pray the same for you all in your broken relationships, as well. That you find the will within you the desire to offer grace and not be aggrieved if the opportunity presents itself that you can be reconciled.  That you be compassionate and not spiteful. That you enter the party and eat and dance your butt off.

When the opportunity presents itself to heal our broken relationships may our response be to emulate the father’s joy, because that is the joy of heaven. It is the joy of the lost come home, and there is nothing sweeter to God, and hopefully to us.
 
Amen

Luke 13:1-9 
The Rev. Peter Faass, Rector

Our Gospel lesson from Luke today is in three parts. The first two are about a Roman slaughter of Galileans by Pontius Pilate, and of a tower collapsing and killing eighteen people. They are events that seem to be well known to Jesus and his audience, but regretfully not recorded in any extant documents so that we can verify them. The third part is a parable about a fig tree, a topic Jesus uses on several occasions in the Gospels.
 
Parts one and two make clear that people attributed these tragic events to acts of an angry God against people who had sinned.
 
“At that very time there were some present who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, ‘Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them--do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’” (Luke 13:1-)
 
It was a deeply held belief in the Judaism of that time that sin lead to suffering.  This belief of sin leading to punishment found its origins in Moses and the Ten Commandments. In Exodus Moses tells the people, “The Lord [is a] God merciful and gracious and slow to anger . . . but by no means clearing the guilty, but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children, and the children’s children to the third and fourth generation.” (Ex. 34:6b, 7b) In other words not only is sin equated with suffering, but its stain carries from one generation to another. People suffered for the sins of their forbearers. Just like Christian theology long held that the original sin of Adam and Eve is passed onto all successive generations.

Yet, centuries after Moses, the Prophet Jeremiah dismisses this harsh and difficult belief. Offering hope for the restoration of Judah after the decimation the Hebrews had suffered during the exile, Jeremiah proclaims to the people, “In those days they shall no longer say: ‘The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.’ But all shall die for their own sins; the teeth of everyone who eats sour grapes shall be set on edge.” (Jer. 31:29-30)
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So, there was a theological split in Judaism, with some Jews believing that your sins, and the sins of your ancestors, would result in personal malady or even death.  With other Jews seeing sin as something one was personally responsible for.   Regardless, both camps saw a correlation of sin inciting God to bring harm, illness and even death in a person’s life.

Jesus confronted this belief on several occasions.  In the Gospel of John Jesus is about to heal a blind man. His disciples ask of him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" (Jn. 9:2 NIV) Jesus replies, “"Neither this man nor his parents sinned.” (Jn. 9:3)
 
The connection between sin and bad behavior by you or your parents, resulting in some tragic punishment by God was one that Jesus said was not true.
 
God doesn’t cause life’s calamities. If humans die by the sword or accident or natural disaster it is not because God has arbitrarily chosen to punish them for their sins.

Those Galileans were not killed because of their sins. They were brutally murdered by the Romans. Which is definitely sinful behavior on the Roman’s part. The Tower of Siloam did not fall and kill eighteen people because God punished them for their sins. It fell because it was either weakened from an earthquake, or more likely, poorly constructed – maybe with watered down mortar to save money by an unscrupulous contractor.  Which again was definitely sinful behavior on his part. 

The Muslims at worship in their mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand last week did not have their blood mingled with the sacrifice of their prayers because, as some egregiously postulate, their faith is sinful. They were murdered by a deluded, hate-filled, white supremacist whose deology and faith are so deranged and distant from the ways of God, it caused him to engage in the heinous sin of taking human lives.

God did not cause these events.
 
We need to stop blaming God for all of life’s ills. We need to take responsibility – both individually and corporately – for the sinful behaviors we engage in and visit upon others. Of “what we have done and what we have left undone,” as the Confession states. And we need to make amendment of life to correct our sinfulness. In other words, we need to repent. God is totally about all these things, especially repentance and returning to right relationship with God.
 
This is why Jesus adds the story of the fig tree to the references of the two tragic events. God is the God of redemption, of second and more chances. God gives even an unfruitful fig tree another chance to produce good fruit. You see the tree’s unfruitfulness indicated it was not in right relationship with God. Yet it gets another chance to repent of its unproductive, sinful ways and amend its life to live in relationship with God, as God desired it too.
 
Let me paraphrase the “God is still speaking” slogan used by our friends in the United Church of Christ. God is still calling; God is still calling us to repent and amend our lives from our sinful behaviors.  God does this by using the manure of forgiveness. But that opportunity for repentance is not infinite. Which is why Jesus is so insistent, even strident, for us to engage in repentance. There is a final judgement, and how we have lived our lives matters.
 
As we repeatedly hear in Advent, none of us knows the hour when the final judgement will occur. There is ultimately a final chance, and then no chance, we just don’t know when. This means every day we have to live as though the next thing we do is our one last chance to put things right- to reject our sins - before the judgement comes­­­. There really is no hedging our bets here. God is the ultimate bookie and knows the odds way better than we do. If we refuse to change despite God’s repeated appeals, there comes a day when we are shut out. Not by God, mind you, but by our own deliberate choices.

Just ask those five foolish virgins in the parable how that feels!
 
And our own deliberate choices impacts us corporately as well as individually.  Communities of faith, cultures, political ideologies, and nations are not exempt. Israel as a religion and as a nation-state repeatedly confronted this truth. We are all called to turn away from sinful things that violate God’s purposes such as idolatry, injustice, and exploitation of others. We are called to repent and turn towards faithful living centered in worship of the most-high God, and in the practice of justice, mutual commitment, care of the most vulnerable, and showing compassion and respect to all people. 

The nation and its leaders who choose the wrong way will suffer. And make no mistake about this, we are living that painful reality right now.  People are suffering because of sinful behavior, idolatry, lack of compassion, apostacy and a blatant, thumb-your-nose attitude toward any desire for repentance from these sins. But judgement will come. We can rest assured of that. And righteousness will prevail. We can rest assured of that, as well.

Repent. Live your life as if today was your last. Turn away from the assumptions, attitudes and actions of sinfulness, and live into the values and practices of the Realm of God as taught by Jesus. Your life depends upon it.
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Amen.