Transformed every step of the way: A sermon for Proper 17, Year A (Sunday, August 30, 2020)

The readings for this Sunday can be found here.

Good morning - how are you? It’s been a week. We reached 80,000 deaths from COVID in our country. And we witnessed devastation along the Louisiana and Texas border from Hurricane Laura. There was the shooting of Jacob Blake in Kenosha, Wisconsin. Over the last two weeks, politicians have explained how their political party will save us. Meanwhile, our lives continue. This week I met exhausted teachers, cancer fighters, and those mourning. It’s been more than a week; it’s been a year.

Enter scripture. What meaning or understanding will it bring to our lives?

I will admit my bias. I don’t think the lectionary, the calendar of our Sunday readings, helps our understanding. Scripture is often broken into smaller pieces or out of context. Sometimes, the parts are spread so far apart, they lose their meaning. For example, we began reading Romans June 14th; and we started with Chapter 8. How many of us remember the sermon from June 14th? And who starts a book in the middle? This is not the most helpful way to read (or study) Romans or any Scripture. Yes, the Sunday readings ensure that we are hearing and reading Scripture. To know, in our hearts and minds, how the Scriptures guide us, we must study them.

Consider today’s readings. All summer long we have bounced around in the Hebrew Scriptures. The Lectionary wants to link the Hebrew Scriptures with the Gospel. There could, though, be a great benefit to reading Jeremiah from beginning to end. Then, there’s the Gospel reading. Matthew, the Gospel writer, puts last week’s and this week’s text back to back on purpose. 

He is telling a story about Peter and Jesus. He is also telling a story about discipleship. I cannot encourage you enough: take some time and read all of Matthew’s Gospel at once. Take some time and highlight all the moments Peter and Jesus share. What do these moments teach us about discipleship? How are they part of a larger story of Jesus’ ministry and our ministry?

Let’s put last week and this week back together.

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived a man who did such wonderful things and said such amazing things that people followed him wherever he went. Peter was one of them; indeed, he was one of Jesus’ closest friends. 

One time, while they were on their way, Jesus asked his friends, “Who do people say that I am?” They had many answers. Then Jesus asked Peter, “Who do you say that I am?”  “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God,” Peter replied. Indeed, this is exactly who Jesus is. And because Peter knew Jesus and claimed Jesus rightly, Jesus named him “The Rock.” Jesus set Peter free to minister in His name. And the disciples continued on their way.

As they traveled, Jesus began to teach them about the Messiah, about his life. He told them they would go to Jerusalem and there he would be arrested. His arrest would lead to his trial where he would be beaten and sentenced to death. Then, three days after his death, Jesus told them, there would be resurrection. As Peter listened, he wondered how any of this could be true. It felt like Jesus had already given up, like he had already decided to die. He cried out, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” But Jesus said, “Your way is not my way. My way is God’s way. You follow your own desires and becoming a stumbling block. Put your mind on God. Be the rock God made you to be.”

Jesus said many other things to the disciples that day. Later, when Peter told the story, he remembered: the journey to Jerusalem, the cross, and the resurrection. He remembered how Jesus taught them God’s ways. He remembered how he, and all those who followed Jesus, were transformed.

I wonder.

I wonder how does Peter know who Jesus is?

I wonder why Peter cries out against Jesus?

I wonder what are Peter’s ways; what are human ways?

How do these ways, our ways, conflict with God’s ways? 

This is when I urge us to put the whole Gospel back together. Sure, we can wonder about the Gospel in short vignettes. And, our wonderings are informed by all that we know about Jesus, God’s kin_dom, and Peter’s discipleship.

From the beginning of his ministry, Jesus reveals God’s ways. Frankly, Matthew sets the tone in the very beginning. For example, Matthew links the genealogy of Jesus with the visit from wise men. This is the first hint how Matthew will portray God’s ways Matthew links sacred genealogy and history with the tribes of the world. God’s kin_dom is more than what Matthew’s people expect; God’s ways reach beyond their tribes to all the nations. And when Jesus begins his ministry and to teach, the ways of God are made clear: the sick are healed, the poor are blessed, and the people are the light of God to the world.

Imagine a world shaped by the ways of God. Imagine a world where healing the sick was our way. Imagine a world where blessing the poor was our way. Imagine a world where each one of us shined the light of God through our lives into the world.

Last week, when Jesus set Peter free for ministry, this is exactly what He imagined: that Peter would depend on God’s ways more than his own. Faith had already revealed to Peter who Jesus is. Now, that faith will lead Peter as he follows Christ and shares Christ’s ministry with the world. Except, Peter gets in his own way. His faith brings him to the Living God. Now, his faith must grow and bring him closer to the ways of the Living God. For Peter to be truly free, he must continue to bind himself to Christ. This means every step to Jerusalem, the cross, and the empty tomb will transform him.

Every step will transform us. We have all we need to follow Christ’s way in the world. And we are our own stumbling blocks. Even those of us with deep, abiding faith, trip ourselves up. Maybe it’s my selfishness. Maybe I’m more committed to my own health and well-being than my neighbors. Maybe I’m bound to systems, institutions, or political parties, and I lose faith in Christ’s ways. Christ turns to us and says: your ways are not my ways; Put your mind on God; be the rock God made you to be. Again and again, we must commit ourselves to God, who is alive in all of creation. Again and again, we must die to our ways and live by the ways of Christ. We must be transformed by the ministry of Christ “to discern the will of God - what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12; from last week’s readings). 

May we commit ourselves to widening our view and caring for our neighbor. May we put our whole faith in God’s ways: liberating ourselves from institutions and systems that enslave us and trusting Christ to save us. May the Spirit empower us and bind us to Christ’s grace, mercy, and love in every step we take.

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+