Set free for ministry: Proper 16, Year A

The readings for today are found here: The Lectionary Page.

I’m about to say something I rarely say: I’m not a big fan of today’s Gospel. It feels scandalous to say it out loud. Usually, I’m declaring the Gospel my favorite or one of my favorites but not today. Indeed, I spent most of the week trying to craft a sermon on Isaiah or Romans. I even considered preaching the other option for our Hebrew Scripture text this morning (the wonderful story of the five bold women who prepare the way for Moses’ leadership in Exodus 1). And then, on my walk Friday morning, I found myself leaning in to today’s Gospel.

When I listen to the reading from Matthew, my mind lingers on Peter. The problem is I’m not a big fan of Peter’s. I mean, I know I didn’t know him in real life; and, I’m sure he was a great guy. I simply prefer Jesus. And this story, too many times, even by title “Peter’s Confession” puts Peter at the center of the story. I often feel our interpretations of this story focus too much on Peter and not enough on Jesus.

This week, though, I began to wonder what Jesus is up to. Why ask the disciples, or Peter, this question: Who do people say that I am? Why does the question matter? Is this a quiz or, as my Old Testament professor used to say: a guess what the teacher is thinking question? Is he interviewing Peter? What would have happened if Peter’s answer was wrong? Of course, that wouldn’t have happened,or, even if it did, Matthew would not have told us. Matthew’s intent is to lift Peter up: the head of the church, the foundational rock. Matthew, the Gospel writer, includes the question because Peter’s answer gives him authority. Why, though, does Jesus ask the question(s): Who do people say that I am? Who do you say that I am?

Consider the question: who do we say that Jesus is? On any given day, who knows what our answer might be: Moses, Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets. On another day, we might respond: Emmanuel, Incarnate Word, or Resurrected Christ. Names we find in the Gospels. Or on another day, we might call Jesus the Good Shepherd, the Good Samaritan, or the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Names Jesus uses for himself. If Jesus stood before us today and asked “who do you say that I am,” how would we answer?

Growing up, my religious experience was in a nice Episcopal bubble. I knew kids at school went to other churches and youth groups, and I never paid much attention. I was quite happy at my church with my people. We named Jesus as our friend, comfort, and guide. And I don’t remember ever talking about Jesus outside of church. 

College was when my religious experience widened. I attended a state liberal arts college. In class, the Bible was studied as literature not Holy Scripture. My fellow students were mostly either atheists, agnostic, or Baptist. I spent a lot of time listening as my classmates argued either for or against God and Jesus. For some, Jesus was the only path to salvation, the guarantee of eternal life with God. For others, Jesus was no more than another man for history books. Those years I talked more about Jesus with those outside the church than in the church.

Then, my second Junior year of college (yes, I had a second Junior year), I had the opportunity to study in Northern Ireland. There, I found myself welcomed by the Christian Union. These students invited me into their community and encouraged my faith. 

This was a group of young people who knew the grace and mercy of Jesus in their lives. Their one goal was to share that love with the world. There was no denominational bubble. There was only the love of Christ for the world. 

My faith was renewed and enriched. I began to know Jesus as more than a man of history, more than a friend. I came to know Jesus: the Messiah, the Incarnate Word, the Son of the living God. With this experience, I bound myself to Jesus’ way of life. My faith in Jesus began to root me in Jesus’ love for creation. Yes, my faith in Christ bound me to his resurrection, raising me to a new life. Now, my faith deepened as I sought practices of grace and mercy. As I followed this way, I began to build a foundation, a rock, for my faith and ministry. I discovered that I, like Peter, held the keys to the kin_dom. Following Christ, the son of the living God, liberated me for ministry as a beloved child of God.

Who do you say that I am is a question of faith and personal piety. Our answer reveals our belief about the nature and character of Christ. 

Who do you say that I am is also an invitation. Our answer evokes ministry in Christ’s name. If Jesus is a good man, then we can be good - like him. If Jesus is a friend and companion, we are friends and companions. Today, though Jesus enriches our lives, invites us closer to the presence of God in our lives. 

The Gospel is clear: Jesus is the Son of the living God. This belief transforms us. It means that we, bound to Christ’s life, are children, beloved and chosen, of God: a God who is alive in us and our world. We no longer live for ourselves. We are no longer bound by duty or a moral obligation. Now, the love of God is revealed in the life and ministry of Christ in our lives. God’s grace and mercy, revealed in Christ, sets us free to love and serve all God’s children.

Today, Jesus liberates Peter for ministry. When Peter names Jesus, he binds himself to Jesus’ way of life. In turn, Jesus names Peter: identifying his faithfulness as a beloved child of the living God. Peter’s experiences of Christ’s ministry give him the keys to God’s kin_dom: God’s living love, grace, and mercy revealed in Jesus.

We, like Peter, are set free for ministry, no matter our circumstance. Of course, we yearn to be together. We miss the presence of God we experience when we are together. The question some of us are asking is: What does it mean to be church, to experience God’s kin_dom when we cannot be together? One answer is in our Gospel today. As Christ gives Peter the keys of the kin_dom, they are dropped into our open hearts and hands. We, children of the living God, have all we need to be Christ’s hands and heart in the world. If we believe in a living, loving God revealed in Christ, then we have confidence that God is with us. We have the power to share that love with the world. 

May we name Christ Son of the Living God. May we, by the ministry of Christ, experience God’s grace and mercy in our own lives. May we enact the presence of a living God in our community: loving our neighbors, practicing forgiveness, and seeking Christ in everyone we meet.

Peace be with you,

Amy+

The Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A: Good Shepherd Sunday

The Fourth Sunday of Easter is always “Good Shepherd Sunday.” Every year we read from Chapter 10 John’s Gospel about shepherds and sheep. In this chapter, Jesus uses a lot of words to describe who he is.

The image or theology of the Good Shepherd is very popular. Psalm 23 is one of the, if not the most, popular Psalms from the Bible. Many of us know the psalm by heart. I learned it when I spent a year reciting the Psalm every morning to make a habit of trusting God. The theology is inherently good: God is our trustworthy guide through good and bad, and, ultimately, the eternal good. It is, perhaps, a particularly poignant image during this time of a global pandemic. The Good Shepherd reminds us: God is with us; we have all we need; and, the ordinary is extraordinary in the presence of God.

All of the Gospels use the image of sheep and shepherds in some way. Sometimes it is the Son of Man separating the sheep and the goats. Other times, Jesus views the crowd as lost sheep without a shepherd.

The Gospel of John, though, is the only Gospel where Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd. He does so in the middle of a long speech about gates, shepherds, thieves, bandits, and hired hands.

I sometimes feel like Jesus uses too many words (and I love words and Jesus). I find myself trying to keep track of each image, weaving them together in my imagination. By the time I’m done, I feel dizzy and unsure.

I felt especially unsure in John’s Gospel this week. Every day, my mind bounces from one task to the next: the kids’ schoolwork, preparing for Sunday, checking on people, household chores… I’m constantly interrupting myself or being interrupted by someone/something else. I have a feeling this is because of the underlying anxiety that comes with a global pandemic. It’s not that things are bad. And isolation and face masks are just two reminders that life has changed. As I read and re-read this Sunday’s Gospel, I struggled. I would go read or listen to a commentary, and struggle. I would sit down to write and think, and struggle. I couldn’t focus. I felt scattered. I kept wondering: which image is the most important; what do I want to remember about this Sunday’s Gospel?

I want to remember that Jesus loves us the way a good shepherd loves the sheep.

I once read a crime novel about sheep who solve the murder of their beloved shepherd, George (Three Bags Full by Leonie Swann). What I remember about the book is how much the sheep loved their shepherd. They loved him because he loved them first. I believe a good shepherd loves their sheep. And even though I know sheep can not solve mysteries, I believe they know love. And so do we. We know the feeling of loving and being loved.

Sometimes, it is difficult to know the love of Jesus in our lives. We might wonder if we will have all we need, especially when we walk through dark places. We might wonder if we will find our way, especially when we feel lost or afraid. We might wonder where God is, especially in the presence of thieves and bandits. The image of the Good Shepherd is a solid reminder of Christ’s love and presence. When we feel lost or afraid, uncertain or unsure, we can meditate on the Good Shepherd.

The Good Shepherd reminds us that God gives us all we need, guides us, even in the dark, and is always with us. The Good Shepherd is a revelation of God’s love for creation. The Good Shepherd teaches us to love like God. I want to remember that the Good Shepherd loves us, all of us, all the time.

I want to remember that Jesus is a door to abundant life thrown wide open.

The doors of our church are some of the most well known doors in town. Take a look at the mural on 3rd street: there are Trinity’s doors. Our doors are beautiful and they are just doors: an entry way into our sacred space. I know when people look at our doors, they wonder what is inside. I hope when they come inside they experience the love of the Good Shepherd.

The word translated as gate in our Gospel today is actually door. I’m not sure if that changes its meaning. Except, it is a reminder that Jesus is talking about access: who enters the sheepfold. If we skim the reading or listen half-heartedly, we might hear limitations. These limitations, though, don’t make sense in light of the whole story of Jesus. Just before today’s reading the Gospel tells the story of a blind man healed by Jesus. After the blind man is healed, his community does not believe him. Indeed, they drive him out of the community because they are so offended by his healing. Jesus, though, welcomes him into the community of followers, into the sheepfold. Jesus gives the blind man access to a community of mercy and love.

The Good Shepherd welcomes anyone who wants to be close to God, turning no one away. The Good Shepherd creates community, even amidst isolation. I want to remember that the Good Shepherd opens the door to peace, mercy, and healing love.

And I want to remember that I can love the way the Good Shepherd loves. I want to offer peace in the dark places. I want to spread a table of mercy and healing. I want to the throw open the doors of love in my own life: to create and inhabit a community that leads to abundant life.

Of course, community looks very different right now. And we can still love. Maybe it’s sending a card, making a phone call, or waving to your neighbor. Maybe it’s a kind word, or a generous offering. Maybe it’s an act of forgiveness and reconciliation invites healing and peace. We are empowered by the Good Shepherd, who loves us, to love. May we have the courage and strength to be who Christ calls us to be.

Peace be with you,

Amy+

The Sixth Sunday of Epiphany: The Ten Best Ways

In Godly Play, we call them the 10 best ways. It is a desert story, so we get to use the desert box (always a treat - because y’know sand…). The tray holds a small mountain, a basket of people, and a heart shaped box. The story begins with Moses and the people crossing the desert, and coming to a great mountain. The mountain is covered in fire and smoke, and anyone who touches the mountain might die. It is a scary proposition. Moses is the only one to climb the mountain. When he gets to the top a cloud covers him: God comes very close to Moses and Moses comes very close to God. When Moses comes down the mountain, he has a story for the people. It is a story of how to live, of God’s way of life for them. Then, the heart shaped box is opened, like a gift, and the ten best ways are read.

Love God. Love People. God Loves Us.

Don’t serve other gods. Make no idols to worship. 

Be serious when you say my name. Keep the Sabbath holy.

Honor your mother and father. Don’t kill. Don’t break your marriage. 

               Don’t steal. Don’t lie. Don’t even want what others have.

“I know,” the storyteller says, “These are all hard. God did not say these are the ‘ten easy things to do.’ They are the Ten Best Ways to Live…They are hard, perhaps even impossible, but we are supposed to try.”  Then we wonder together: which one of these ways is your favorite; which one is the most important; which one is especially for you; are there any we could leave out and still have all we need? 

The Book of Deuteronomy is the fifth book of the Pentateuch or Torah: the Jewish written law. Deuteronomy uses Moses’ voice to tell the story of Israel’s sojourn in the desert. The book centers around three speeches from Moses. These speeches tell the history of the people, present and explain The Law, and remind the people of their loyalty to YHWH.   The book ends with Moses’ death; he never enters The Promised Land. These speeches are his last chance to instill God’s covenant into the hearts of God’s people: love and serve God and God’s way will be a blessing to you.

Since then, people have studied and interpreted The Torah. It is a holy book that tells the story of God’s people. It has come to mean many things to many people. It is creation. It is a family story. It is The Covenant. It is The Law. 

And sometimes we overthink things; or, at least, I over think things. And I suppose I imagine that I’m not the only one. I imagine that anyone willing to devote themselves to study of The Law may, on occasion, find themselves “in the weeds.” In other words, they may wonder (as the kids and I sometimes do) what does “be serious when you say my name” really mean? Perhaps Moses knew people well enough to know we would over-think The Law, which is why, in Deuteronomy, he continually reminds the people the heart of the law: Love God; Love People; God Loves Us. For Moses, The Law is best way of life: follow God and you will have life in God. 

I wonder: what defines our way of life? What are our core values? What do we believe makes us the people of God? What do we believe are the ways that lead us to life?

I have a feeling that we might all agree “in theory” about what the best ways are. We might even all agree that The 10 Best Ways are the best ways. And, if we dig a little deeper, really commit to them, in real life, we might find places where we diverge. For example: none of us wants to serve two gods, and sometimes we find ourselves torn between God’s way and our own desires; none of us may want what our neighbors have, until all of a sudden they have something we want. 

There are times when we try to shape the ten best ways into practices that suit our purposes, our way of life. Yet, their intention is to shape us, who we are, and how we live.

The good news is that the choice Moses presents to Israel is not a one-time choice. The Israelites stray from the covenant many times. And they start over many times. They worship Baal, then return to YHWH. They turn from love of God and neighbor, then re-turn to love God and their neighbor. They turn their lives away from God, then they turn back. Again and again, God embraces them, renews the covenant, and starts over with the people. 

Over the last few months, I have watched and listened. I know that we do not all agree: about politics, about righteousness, about justice. I have listened to the scriptures: to Isaiah, Amos, the Apostle Paul, Matthew and John. I have wondered and prayed about what to say and what to do. I am on my own spiritual journey wrestling with the scriptures, in prayer, and working hard to practice my faith. I went to seminary to lead congregations on their journey of faith as they wrestle with the scriptures, pray together, and practice their faith. Sometimes the people I serve want to know what I think or how I feel. Most of the time, the people I serve want me to listen. I believe that all of the time the people I serve want to know who God is, where and how God acts in the world. If you are here on a Sunday morning, if you’ve made the effort, then I’m assuming you’ve come for more than the coffee. Over the last few months, I have watched and listened; and I believe you’ve come to hear the word of God, say your prayers, meet God at this table - and to do all of these things together, as a community.

What I have found to be true, for me, is that the scriptures are a solid ground where I can root myself. When I am searching for Jesus, I turn to the Gospels. When I am grieving or lost, I turn to the Psalms. When I am looking for a way through life, I can go to Job, or Ruth, or Romans, or Deuteronomy. There I find deep reminders about God. In these places, I find Jesus digging deep into the law and demanding I do hard things like forgiveness, faithfulness, and living a life of integrity.  I find Paul reminding us that we belong to God, our Creator, and no one else. I hear the words of Moses: choose life, choose God, choose the ways of God. These words give me hope: they remind me there is a way, a way better than any other way, the best way. If you are searching for a way, I commend to you the stories of our people, God’s people. They will help you find your way.

And the good news is that when we lose our way, we can start again. When idols have more power in our lives than God, we can turn back to God. When we turn from love of God and neighbor, we can re-turn to love God and our neighbor. When we begin to try and shape the practices to suit our needs, we can return to the originals and try again. Again and again, God will embrace us, welcome us home, and start over with us.

The worlds offers us so many different ways. We can be whoever we want, worship whoever we want, live however we want. 

God invites us to live a particular way in the world. It is the way that Loves God. It is the way that Loves People. It is the way of God’s love for us - all of us. It is the hard work of faithfulness (to God and one another). It is the hard work of honoring one another, living with integrity, and being pure of heart. It is the hard work of choosing life, for ourselves and our neighbor. These are God’s ways. They are the best ways. They are not easy ways. God’s way is hard, perhaps even impossible, and we are supposed to try. 

May God give us the courage and strength we need to try - for our sake and for the world.