The 20th Sunday after Pentecost - Servant or Leader or Both?

We have an expression that describes Jesus' critique of the scribes and the Pharisees:  They don't walk the talk.  They make such a convenient target, don't they?  Jesus appears to be challenging their all-to-visible pride. He accuses them of excessive focus on the respect they should receive, while forgetting their true duties to those who look to them for spiritual leadership.  Rather their leadership concerns itself with status and power.  Jesus, on the other hand, taught his disciples the value of humility.

But aren't these religious leaders following a path that most would have expected them to tread?  Their duty was to obey God's teaching through the law.  Correct practice—not popularity—seemed to be their goal.  And nowhere do we hear these leaders critiqued because they failed to follow the Torah.

What we hear Jesus saying about these leaders concerns the context of their leadership.  They are following the Law, yes—but without considering how the people without their privileges are managing.

Jesus uses incisive images to describe what's wrong with these religious leaders.  These images demonstrate both the scribes' and Pharisees' pride and their lack of concern for the people who were less fortunate:  the broad phylacteries (leather case worn on the forehead), the long fringes on their shawls, the places of honor at a banquet, the best seats in the synagogue, respectful greetings in the market place, and being called “rabbi.”

At least part of Jesus' appeal to ordinary people was his lack of pretension.  He did not depend on such outward signs of personal status as the religious leaders showed.  At the end of the reading from Matthew's gospel we just heard Jesus summarizes his teaching by noting that the exalted would be humbled and the humble would be exalted.  Given how our world appears to be working these days, one might pray, “When, O Lord, when?  And by the way, Lord, please remember I am one of the humble!”

The deep issue this passages raises isn't the fact that our leaders have certain titles or certain seats assigned in the worship assembly—or even that folks defer to them in the line waiting for food at the covered dish dinner.  The deep issue is the nature of our leadership within the context of our community—whether that community is the parish, the diocese, The Episcopal Church, or the world-wide Anglican Communion.  Jesus taught that authentic religious leadership shows humility as a prime characteristic.  And that humility shows itself by our placing God at the center of our lives in a religious community:  all teaching, all compassionate care, all mercy, all worship—all these marks of our life together must be Christ-centered.

This sort of leadership has been called servant leadership, the placing the needs of others or of the community first.  Some have called it cross-shaped leadership—recalling Jesus' sacrificial love in choosing the cross.  With this style of leadership one must be willing to give up control so that the Holy Spirit may inspire us and redeem whatever damage needs repair.

In 2008 Alban Institute published a book entitled “Cross-shaped Leadership” by a Lutheran pastor, John Berntsen.  Berntsen offered much wise advice about how to exercise servant leadership.  But my favorite chapter, the final one, addressed the humor in using this sort of leadership style.  A cartoon from that chapter shows two couples at a Bible study—open Bibles in their laps.  A woman speaks to the others: “Well, I haven't actually died to sin, but I did feel kind of faint once.”

Whether it is called cross-shaped leadership, servant leadership or just plain humility, this style of leadership involves cultivating that fainting feeling regarding the sins of pride, prestige-seeking and perfectionism.  And I speak from personal experience here, to die—or even to faint—to my pride, my prestige-seeking or my perfectionism is never easy!

When one is asked to be a leader in a church community—whether clergy or lay—one is asked to undertake work by folks who expect the work to be well done and who expect positive results from that work.  But a church community shouldn't function as a business with a bottom line.  A church community should function as a place where relationships with each other and with the divine find a safe environment with spiritually fertile ground.  Whatever the community can accomplish must grow from that matrix of safety and spiritual fertility.  And the servant leader's job must be to protect the community's safety and till its spiritually fertile soil.  Being on one's knees and getting one's hands dirty cannot—and should not—be avoided!

So Jesus' command not to call others in the community of disciples by the certain titles has been for the most part ignored.  Our particular flavor of Christianity has used the title “Father” regularly in the modern times to distinguish clergy—although the ordination of women as priests has changed this somewhat.  Yet, what titles we give our leaders is only a surface issue.  How we choose to order our community is not.  It deeply affects the gospel message we carry.  Are we a people where God's love manifests itself in our compassion for each other and in our forgiving one another?  Are we a people who seek to serve others, even when they may, at times, be prickly or ungrateful?  What truly, deeply matters is what Jesus taught: “The greatest among you will be your servant.”  And through his life and his death on the cross, he provided us the clearest, most complete example of strong, servant leadership.  How are we measuring up? 

The 19th Sunday after Pentecost - A View of Christian Vocation

The apostle Paul wrote this to the Thessalonians: “ . . .just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the message of the gospel, even so we speak, not to please mortals, but to please God who tests our hearts.”

St. Paul understood his vocation as spreading the meaning of Jesus' live, death and resurrection to Gentiles. In his letters he sought to deal with the issues of living out one's faith in the earliest Christian communities around the Mediterranean.  In the passage from his first letter to the church at Thessalonica, Paul describes how he had been—and would be—proclaiming the good news that God became one of us.  God did this to teach us how we are to live in a right relationship with God.  God also became human and died for us to cover our sins in the sight of God.  Indeed. Jesus became our Savior and Redeemer.

If we are to follow Paul's example as a proclaimer of the good news of God in Christ, then knowing how he understood his vocation may help us understand ours. I think we can take apart the phrase I quoted at the beginning of my sermon in order to figure this out.

First, Paul believed he was “approved by God.”  I am reminded of a statement made by the Scottish runner, Eric Liddel, in the movie, “Chariots of Fire.”  He was discussing with his sister his delay in beginning missionary work in China.  His sister wanted him to stop wasting time training for the Olympics.  Eric replied that God had made him “fast,”  and  that “when I run, I feel His pleasure.”  God “approves” of us when we use the gifts God gave us as fully as we are able for love of both God and neighbor. What gift or gifts has God given you?  Have you felt God's pleasure when you were using these gifts? 

Next, Paul was “entrusted” by God.  We have a phrase on our currency—in God we trust.  But how often do we think about God's trusting us?  How else would the work of Christ in the world get accomplished, except through human beings?  God does allow us the power to choose to follow Jesus Christ or not.  But if we choose to follow, then God trusts us, as he did Paul, to be Christ's heart, hands and feet in the world.  God depends on us to accomplish whatever we can to make a more just and peaceful world—with God's support, of course.  How have you experienced God's trust in you?

Then Paul calls what he is entrusted with, “the message of the gospel.”  The message of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus has power.  This message accomplishes what it describes: how sinners are saved from the power of sin and death and how new, resurrected life begins.  This message proclaims salvation and new life for individuals, yes; but also and, perhaps more importantly, for Christian communities. The German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor and theologian martyred by the Nazi regime, described how thoughtful living in Christian community can help us develop needed virtues, including humility, patience, and forgiving others.  How have you experienced the message of the gospel of Jesus Christ, especially in our parish community?

Next, Paul refers to his particular mode of evangelism:  “and so we speak.”  Paul's gift for rhetoric and poetic speech comes through very clearly in the letters he wrote to the churches.  Some of us have this gift as well.  But I am also reminded of St. Francis' command for Christians to preach the gospel, but to use words only if one has to.  So how are we speaking or acting out the message of God's loving-kindness to all?

Then Paul qualifies his style of evangelism as “not to please mortals, but to please God.”  Here Paul is claiming an ethical standard that all us should find helpful.  Of course, what a person may define as “pleasing God” may not, in fact, please God.  But through prayerful discernment with the exercise of appropriate humility, we may venture to say what we understand as “pleasing God.”  How does each of us consider whether a choice we are about to make pleases or does not please God?  How do we do this as a Christian community?

Finally, Paul concludes his sentence with the phrase describing God as one who “tests our hearts.”  This testing helps us to remain authentic and faithful, being true to the person God created us to be, while never forgetting the responsibility God has entrusted to each of us.  Yes, there is grace freely offered by God.  But as Jesus told the Pharisees, God asks us to meet these standards:  loving God with all that we have and all that we are and of loving our neighbors as we love ourselves.  That's the paradox of God's testing of our hearts:  we are both judged as sinners for our inability as human beings always and faithfully to keep the two great commandments and, yet, forgiven through the mediation of Jesus Christ.  Are we able to accept the testing of our hearts by God, trusting in God's grace?

So as we continue our journey in Christ, let us with remember St. Paul's understanding of his vocation: “ . . .just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the message of the gospel, even so we speak, not to please mortals, but to please God who tests our hearts.”

May we with confidence continue to respond to God’s call to each of us—and to all of us as a parish—always aiming to please God.

The 18th Sunday after Pentecost - God's Choice and Our Choice

To chose and to be chosen: these words can describe various relationships—friendships, teams, marriages, to name a few.  There can be a mutuality in the choosing—with both people being equal and free to accept or reject the choice of the other.  Yet, “to choose” can imply the person doing the choosing holds power over the one being chosen.  “To be chosen” for a job, for example, implies a power differential: the boss does the choosing and—if you need to earn a living—you accept the work offered, happy to be the one chosen.

How do we view our relationship to God?  Do we chose God?  Does God choose us?  Some people view God as being able to choose whomever God wants.  If we, on the other hand, view ourselves as having free will vis a vis God, then we have the power of choice as well.

These two points of view inform our understanding of adult (or believer's) baptism in contrast to infant baptism.  Adults can make promises to reject evil and choose Jesus Christ as their Lord.  Doing this of their own free will, they appear to hold the power of choice.  But many Christian churches baptize infants as well.  Although godparents and parents make the baptismal promises, our theology claims that the sacrament of baptism is valid for infants, despite their inability to make an informed choice.  We believe that God offers grace through the sacraments, including infant baptism—choosing us, even when we are incapable of choosing God. Both these points of view are theologically valid ways to understand baptism or any Christian sacrament—even though they will always remain in constant tension with each other.  For example, we can speak about our choosing to have faith—“we believe in one God, maker of heaven and earth.”  Or we can say we understand our faith as a gift from God, a mystery we can not explain easily, but one which is true for us, nevertheless.

In the reading we heard from Exodus, we find Moses in dialog with God about how God's choice to make the Israelites God's people should work:  Moses spoke to God, “If have found found favor in your sight, show me your ways, so that I may know you and find favor in your sight.”  [“Know” implies an intimate relationship.] A few sentences later, Moses defines more clearly what he is asking God for:  “Show me your glory, I pray.”  That is a step too far.  God affirms God's relationship with Moses with the words, “I know you by name.”  And God promises to show graciousness and mercy to those, including Moses, as God chooses.  But God restricts even Moses from seeing his face.

The writer of the book of Job has Job speak about the relationship he wants to have with God when his earthly life ends.  We use these words from the 19^th chapter of Job as part of the opening anthems in the Burial Rite:  “I know that my Redeemer lives . . .After my awaking, he will raise me up; and in my body, I shall see God.  I myself shall see, and my eyes behold him who is my friend and not a stranger.”  Through God's action after one's death, the prohibition about seeing God and knowing God intimately is lifted.

St. Paul brought up God's action of grace in his first letter to the Thessalonians—the earliest written theology of God's calling humanity into relationship through Jesus' life, death and resurrection.  Paul wrote, “For we know, brothers and sisters beloved by God that he has chosen you . . .”   And then Paul explains how this choosing happened:  “ . . . because our gospel came to you not in word only but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction . . .”  Paul claimed that God acted powerfully through the third person of the Trinity to convince and transform those who heard Paul preach the gospel of Jesus Christ.

So we recognize both the sacraments and the preaching of the gospel as vehicles God to call us— to choose us.  Each time we hear a sermon and each time we receive the mystical body and blood of Christ we may sense the call of God as a barely discernible whisper—or it may be a like loud rushing wind overwhelming us with its power.

But in the reading from Matthew we heard this morning, the disciples of the Pharisees pose a question to Jesus that focuses on the other part of the “choosing-and-being-chosen” relationship.  In the real world we frequently face ethical and moral dilemmas.  These religious leaders tried to create one for Jesus in order to trap him into either losing the common people's support or getting into serious trouble with the Roman rulers.  Such a subtle question—but such a trap.  Let me paraphrase:  You very sincere, fair, and righteous person, are you going to support oppression and terror—or not?  Jesus' answer defined for them—and for us—the true question:  What does it mean to choose God in the real world in response to God choosing us? 

Ceasars—the rulers in this world—both those elected and those put in power by force—can demand what may be felt as oppressive, even cruel, by those they govern.  St. Augustine in his book, The City of God, said human governments will always be that way.  Our choosing God—our giving to God the things that are God's as Jesus puts it—means we will offer all that we have and all that we are to God who has chosen us first.  In choosing us, God offers us freedom from the power, not only of human oppression and all other sin, but also freedom from the power of death.  In choosing God, we accept this freedom, and we accept the responsibility for offering ourselves as Christ's compassionate heart, hands and feet in the world.

St. Paul praised the Thessalonians for their choosing God in Jesus.  He called their life in Christian community, “your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.”  May God find such a community among us here at St. Nicholas.'

The 17th Sunday after Pentecost - Many Called, Few Chosen?

“Many are called, but few are chosen.”  I'm not so fond of the king in Jesus' parable from Matthew's gospel.  In fact, I not inclined to want to be part of the world of the parable either. This world is populated with socially impolite folk who ignore the king's invitation to a lavish wedding banquet. It seems as if the “save the date” cards had been sent and now the official invitations were carried in person by the king's servants to the invitees.  Some of these ungrateful, foolish folk had better ways to spend their time.  Others, in a gesture of contempt, mistreated and murdered the staff who brought the invitations.

Then the heat gets turned up a notch when the king responds in kind.  After ordering his troops to kill his contemptuous subjects, he sends out immediate invitations to everyone in the street.  His servants rounded up everyone they can find, probably calling, “Come to the wedding banquet for the son of the king.”  Both “good and bad” folks responded.  But something was still unsettled in this king's mind.  Clearly a detail person, he needed to check to see whether all those folks gathered from the street were dressed properly.

One poor unfortunate person was not wearing a wedding garment and got expelled in a rather brutal fashion from the banquet. Then Matthew reported Jesus summarizing the state of affairs:  “Many are called, but few are chosen.”

This very unpleasant parable comes at the end of a series of three parables near the end of Jesus' ministry.  Matthew reported that Jesus came to the temple in Jerusalem and overturned the tables of the money changers and those who sold doves.  These folks were cheating the poorest of the Temple worshippers.  Then in a verbal altercation with the temple authorities he told them that children praised God better than they did.  After spend the night in Bethany, he returned to the Temple in Jerusalem to teach.  On the way from Bethany, he was hungry and cursed a fig tree that had no fruit. Finally, he entered the temple and began to teach.  We should not be surprised that the temple leaders approached him and questioned his authority.

The past two Sundays we have heard the first two parables he told:  first, the parable of the two sons, one of whom obeyed his father even when he said he wouldn't and, then, the parable of the wicked tenants in the vineyard.  Now today we heard about the angry king who dragoons guests for his son's wedding banquet.  Did those authorities listening to Jesus think, “Enough already, get out of our faces?”  Well, Matthew reported this response: “Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap [Jesus] in what he said.”  Next week we will hear exactly how they question him, so he might misspeak, bringing the wrath of the Roman rulers down on him.

But that's next week.  Right now we have to deal with this parable Jesus told when he seemed to be in an angry, grumpy mood.  Matthew makes it clear the religious authorities understood Jesus was criticizing them.  But they were afraid of his popularity with the common people at the moment.

Neither the world of the parable nor Jesus' world could be called harmonious.  The term “class warfare” is being flung into political speech these days.  It could certainly apply to the conflict we are witnessing to as we hear (or read) this part of the Matthew gospel.  And we know how it will end.

“Many are called, but few are chosen.”  I think I understand how Jesus was using this parable to spar with those in the religious establishment of the Temple who questioned his authority.  But I certainly struggle with a theology that says God saves just a few people, while condemning most folks to an eternity away from the divine glory.  The Rob Bell book, “Love Wins,”—which a group of us are reading and discussing right now—suggests that salvation will be for many more than “a few.”

The only way I can understand how this parable speaks to us today is to find within myself parts of all the guests.  Sometimes I may ignore what God seems to want.  Sometimes I may actively oppose it. Occasionally I will respond, “Yes, God,” but I may then discover I am unprepared when I should have known better.  If we are honest with ourselves, we will surely find ourselves as unworthy of a banquet invitation to God's holy reign as any of the guests in the parable.

That thought is truly a downer—so what hope have we?  What about God's grace?  The three gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—all address this concern with the image of a camel trying to go through the eye of a needle.  Here is how the 19^th chapter Matthew presents it:  [Jesus said,] “Again I will tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich [and I would add also 'or sinful'] to enter the kingdom of God.  When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astounded, and said, 'Then who can be saved?' But Jesus looked at them and said, 'For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.'”

Our hope in Christ, our faith that God desires our salvation—eternally living in God's glory—these primarily do not rest on our always resisting sin and simply living a pure and holy life.  As human beings we are not able—even when we try to!  Instead, our hope and our faith rest on the promise of God's saving grace, “for God all things are possible.”

The Wicked Tenants and St. Francis - What's the intersect?

On October 2, I preached one of my "conversational" sermons.  I sit on a stool in the middle of the church near the front and "chat" with the congregation.  Because of the distraction of some dogs parishioners had brought to be blessed, I was asked to post my talking points.  I usually only post my full text sermons, but I am making an exception for this sermon.

l      Parable of the Wicked Tenants – world of the parable is not the real world, but its meaning can be applied to the real world.

l      As an allegory (Matthew's pov) God = vineyard owner – Tenants = Jewish religious authorities – Slaves sent to collect = Jewish prophets from history – Jesus = heir – the fruit of the vineyard is what results of righteous and just behavior.  What does result is a well-ordered world in which God's reign = established.

l      But we don't live in 1^st century Palestine, neither did St. Francis – so what might it mean in another context?

l      Vineyard (grape vines, fence, wine press, watchtower) well ordered place which is torn apart by the disorder of tenant farmers who act with malice, without justice – appeared to live only to themselves and their own gain – no gratitude – no sense of duty at the very least.

l      In Francis' world: very rich (Francis’ family) and very poor; constant war; lepers lived a wretched existence of exile and begging

l      at 20 he went to fight and was captured and imprisoned for a year; returning home he became ill and had a spiritual crisis – started to enlist in another war, but had a vision and turned back; spent time praying to God for enlightenment.

l       After a pilgrimage to Rome, where he begged at the church doors for the poor, he said he had a mystical vision of Jesus Christ in the Church of San Damiano just outside of Assisi, in which the icon of Christ crucified said to him, "Francis, Francis, go and repair My house which, as you can see, is falling into ruins".  He tried to sell some of his father's cloth to finance the rebuilding, father objected strongly, Francis renounced his connection with his family.

l      At about 28 Francis heard a sermon that changed his life. The sermon was about Matthew 10, in which Christ tells his followers they should go forth and proclaim that the Kingdom of Heaven was upon them, that they should take no money with them, nor even a walking stick or shoes for the road. Francis was inspired to devote himself to a life of poverty.

l      He sought to preach what the reign of God should be like, cared for lepers, rejected any security from having any worldly goods individually and, as others joined him, as a group—was a beggar.

l      Radical dependence on God's goodness with a grateful heart = a way to turn the disorder of the world around—because the needs of the vulnerable and weak come first, as you acknowledge your life as God's gift.  Francis saw Jesus as ushering in the reign of God by living this way.  Francis’ lifestyle could be seen as a way of reversing the disorderly behavior of humanity that led to the death of God's messengers and the death of Jesus.

l      Radical praise of God as creator = giving God God's due; we as human beings have a God-given responsibility to care for God's creation and live humbly as creatures as well:  Canticle of the Sun

Most high, all powerful, all good Lord!
All praise is yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing.
To you, alone, Most High, do they belong.
No mortal lips are worthy to pronounce your name.
Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures,
especially through my lord Brother Sun,
who brings the day; and you give light through him.
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars;
in the heavens you have made them bright, precious and beautiful.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
and clouds and storms, and all the weather,
through which you give your creatures sustenance.
Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water;
she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
through whom you brighten the night.
He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth,
who feeds us and rules us,
and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of you;
through those who endure sickness and trial.
Happy those who endure in peace,
for by you, Most High, they will be crowned.
Be praised, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death,
from whose embrace no living person can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those she finds doing your most holy will.
The second death can do no harm to them.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks,
and serve him with great humility.

l      How do we respond to St. Francis' example?  Is it too hard an example?  In his lifetime the order of brothers he founded ceased to live as radically as Francis wished.  Even if it is too hard, should we try as best we can??  It can provide a balance for our self-centered concerns about what we want for ourselves.