In the eaves over our back porch is a bird’s nest that’s been there for at least a decade. Multiple times a year, the mourning doves hatch new little baby birds. One year, a swarm of wasps built their nest just a few inches away from the hatchlings; too close to spray insecticide or remove the wasps without endangering the birds.
So, I let it be until it was safe to do something. And guess what? Nothing happened. The birds grew up and the wasps eventually moved on. If these two seemingly opposing creatures can live side-by-side in perfect harmony, then so can we. Like we will see from today’s reading, we are all called to live in this world together - friends and enemies alike - enduring all the good and bad that we bring with us. Matthew 13:24-30; 36-43 He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field, but while everybody was asleep an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well... The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No, for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’ ” Matthew 13:24-30
Immediately following last week’s parable of the farmer who recklessly throws seeds everywhere to see what would grow, Jesus gives us another parable about another farmer, one who’s more intentional with his seeds.
Like he does every year, the farmer carefully sows wheat in his field hoping to reap a bounty come harvest time. While the seed is germinating, an enemy of the farmer sneaks in and sows weeds into his crop. Unbeknownst to the farmer, the two plants grow together. When the field-hands discover this, they rush to act. And rightfully so. Weeds not only choke out the good plants, but they also reproduce unwanted seedlings that can plague future crops. A smart gardener would take immediate action to remove the weeds like the field-hands suggest. But the farmer seems to have a different strategy in mind: don’t worry about the weeds, tend to them both and we’ll sort it out later. This puzzles the workers, just as it probably did to those who were listening firsthand. Last week I confessed that my obsession to have the perfect yard often sent me into war against the dandelions. But to be fair, it’s not just those pillowy puffs that get my ire up. There’s a vast assortment of evil weeds that snake around my yard strangling the life out of my good grass. When we moved into this house, the previous owners had put down new sod. It was a spongy, luscious, dark green carpet of paradise that tickled my bare feet. But by spring, some crabgrass appeared. I should have known by the puzzled look on his face that it was a bad idea to ask the gardener to pull up any crabgrass he spotted. Which he did, diligently. When I returned home, 50% of my beautiful yard was gone. Although he put down new seed in the barren areas, it was too late. The spotted spurge, the chickweed and Bermuda grass had already joined the party. It’s easy to think this parable is about separating ourselves from bad people and their evil ways. Jesus clearly puts the onus on the evil one for spreading the weeds. While it’s easy for us to make the devil our scapegoat, let us not forget that just as the wheat and the weeds grow together in the same field, so too does good and evil grow in the same persons. Which means, the only way to get rid of evil altogether would be to get rid of literally everyone. But according to Jesus, that’s not how it works in God’s kingdom. Jesus knows evil exists in the world. He, like most of us, suffered dearly because of it. He also knows suffering is inevitable, especially when we love as he taught. And when bad things happen we’re all affected by it either directly or indirectly. This raises the age-old question “Why does a good God allow bad things to happen?” I don’t know the answer. But I suspect God could ask us the same thing. Why do we let it happen? Unlike crabgrass, evil isn’t easily rooted out with human hands. Especially when it’s our own deep seeded sin we’re trying to remove. So, what do we do? In this parable Jesus tells not to worry about it. Those weeds that grow in and around us will be dealt with later. He said at the end of the age, the angelic reapers will collect and separate the good from the bad. So perhaps, instead of focusing on the evil weeds, we’d be better off putting our attention on producing good wheat. As Robert Capon points out, “The wheat is in the field, the Kingdom is in the world, and there is not a thing the enemy can do about any of it.” Just as God knows good from bad, God also knows the heart. The place where God’s divine images has been stamped into everyone - whether we know it or not. Just as a weed seed produces weeds, a good and godly heart produces good and godly things. The world would be a better place if we all just put our attention on that inner goodness - in ourselves and in others. This doesn’t mean evil will no longer exist, but it’s a good way to strip it of its power. So, where should we begin to make that change in our seeing and understanding? Capon points our attention to a particular Greek word in this passage: the verb, aphiémi (ἀφίημι), which has two distinct meanings in the New Testament. The first is “to let go, leave, permit” like we read in most modern bible translations. The farmer told his workers to, “Let both grow together until the harvest.” But Capon argues that’s not how the early followers of Jesus would have heard aphiémi. They would have understood the verb by its other meaning, “to forgive,” like it’s translated in the Lord’s Prayer with the forgiving of debts (or sins or trespasses). “Don’t fight the weeds,” the farmer instructed his workers. “Instead, forgive them. Otherwise you risk your own wellbeing.” God’s kingdom is not a system of revenge and retribution, but forgiveness and grace. This is hard for the world to understand. It’s not how power operates. The world isn’t about giving grace, it’s about getting what you deserve. Unless you have received the unconditional love, and unmerited mercy of God’s grace, then it will be hard to understand this parable - muchless what Jesus is all about. The wheat is already in the ground. The kingdom of heaven has already been ushered in. There’s nothing evil can do to stop what God has already set in motion. “The malice, the evil, the badness that has manifested in the real world and in the lives of real people, is not to be dealt with by attacking or abolishing the things or persons in whom it dwells; rather, it is to be dealt with only by forgiving, letting go.” (Capon) It’s not our job to attack the weeds and risk destroying everything. That’s what evil wants us to do – to use our good to produce bad. Our job is to let go of our judgements and grudges and the need to always be right, and enter this kingdom with a heart of loving compassion. Jesus knows an unforgiving heart is a byproduct of evil that holds onto anger and rage which produces hatred, violence, destruction, and division. Jesus says let that stuff go. It has no place in the kingdom of heaven. We would do better focusing on our own goodness, standing in our Christlikeness, trusting God’s faithfulness and love. James Finley writes, “In light of eternity, we’re here for a very short time. Our sole purpose is to learn how to love because God is love. Love is our origin, love is our ground, and love is our destiny.” There is evil out there, and it will try to stop us from loving as God loves us. But we are Easter people. At the resurrection of Christ Jesus, God made it very clear evil will never prevail. But love will. Jesus is our proof. In his letter to the Roman churches, where infighting and persecutions were threatening the church’s existence, Paul reminds us that there is nothing in this world (good or bad) that is able to separate us from the love of God that has been given to us through Christ Jesus.(Rom. 8:39) All the weeds, and sins, and evil in the world can’t stop what God has already set in motion through Christ. Not a cross. Not a grave. Not anyone of us. Although we cannot destroy evil, we can face it like Jesus did – by loving God, loving others, and serving both. To think it was only a couple of years ago we were wearing masks to help stop the spread of a deadly virus. In the same way, if we live into our Christlikeness, sowing the seeds of love as wildly and liberally as he did, then perhaps we can slow the spread of evil from doing any more damage to ourselves and to our communities. Love is the way into the kingdom of heaven. A kingdom, that Jesus ushered in not “up there” somewhere. But here. Jesus has entrusted us, to make this kingdom come alive everywhere and anywhere we intermingle with one another; sowing mercy, grace, and love among the good and bad alike, until the Son of Man comes and sorts it all out at the end. Work Cited: Adapted from Growing Together on July 17, 2020. Capon, Robert Farrar. The Parables of the Kingdom. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985.) Finley, James. “Practice That Grounds Us in the Sustaining Love of God,” Wisdom in Times of Crisis (Center for Action and Contemplation: 2020), faculty presentation (April 26, 2020). (accessed on 07-16-2020)
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In the book Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren writes, “If I am to spend my whole life being transformed by the good news of Jesus, I must learn how grand, sweeping truths - doctrine, theology, ecclesiology, Christology - rub against the texture of an average day. How I spend this ordinary day in Christ is how I will spend my Christian life.”
The greatest challenge for the Christian church and her people is to live your life like Jesus lived his (loving, forgiving, serving, helping, redeeming, restoring, etc.). This is an intimidating bar he set. That is, until you realize those things were only a small fraction of his life. Most of his life was spent in the mundane, daily tasks of life (eating, sleeping, working, playing, etc.). I think it’s safe to say we’re not spending every waking hour performing miracles, healing people, or forgiving sin. But still, we do spend every second in and around with God in our ordinary, mundane lives. Which means, the conversations we have, the people we meet, the jobs and menial tasks we do all matter to God. And they should matter to us as well. Because it’s in these moments God meets us where we are and loves on us as we are. You may not be raising the dead, but when we spend our day in the everyday spaces like Jesus did – honoring God in tasks big and small – we stay connected with our LORD who makes the mundane and ordinary, extraordinary. When the Anamesa Ministerial Team gathered in Milwaukee last month, it was the first time many of our NACCC friends got to meet Rev. Bob. While he was making new friends, I was off enjoying time with old friends who live nearby.
I did sight-seeing with Amy who I knew from my advertising days. Had brunch with her husband Charlie, a member of Anamesa. A few days later I had dinner with Sarah and Charlie who grew up in the church I was called up in. And after that, I got a phone call from one of my oldest friends from high school. All this while being surrounded by many of my besties in ministry. In the song Just Breath by Pearl Jam there’s a verse that kept swirling around in my head - “Oh I’m a lucky man, to count on both hands the ones I love. Some folks have one, yeah others they got none.” I often count my blessings in the faces of friendships I’ve made throughout my life. I am a lucky man to have my Anamesa tribe to be on this pilgrimage with. And luckier still with you sharing this sacred space with us. I often imagine what might happen if we introduced our friend groups, like we did with Rev. Bob. Last week, Rev. Dawn planted this seed about having A Bring A Friend To Church event! This week, I’m watering it. We believe if we all did this together, we could grow something amazing.
In my last post, we discussed how the Twelve move from being disciples (students) to being Apostles (the sent) sent to be Jesus’ envoys. They are to go out like sheep among wolves to proclaim the same good news. And perform the same works of healing that he’s been doing.
Not only will they share his ministry, but they are to also share in his poverty, taking with them no money or extra clothing. They must depend solely on the hospitality of others for shelter and sustenance. Although Jesus endows them with some of his power, he also gives them this assurance, “Anyone who welcomes and accepts what you do welcomes and accepts me, and the One who sent me.” Much like it is today, one’s identity was tied to family and community. It was understood in the ancient world, that in showing hospitality, one welcomed not just an individual, but the community who sent the person and all that they represent. To welcome a disciple of Jesus would mean receiving the very presence of Jesus himself and of the one who sent him. This tells me that “how” we are welcomed is equally important as how we welcome others. The Apostles must go out and show compassionate welcome to all people, because in doing so they are showing compassion and hospitality to the one who sent them. This remains how the kingdom of heaven is ushered in, here and now. As part of the leadership team for the NACCC, I was kept very busy – moving between meetings and lectures. The day after the conference started, I was rushing to catch the elevator, and ran into a woman who looked a little rushed herself. She had a similar badge around her neck like mine, but hers was yellow. Meaning she was, like Rev. Bob, a first timer to our conference. Instead of listening to the voice in my head that just wanted to spend a few seconds alone on the elevator in quiet, I followed the voice of my heart that turned to welcome her. The conversation wasn’t profound, but the presence of Christ surely was. The presence of his peace seemed to calm us both in our busyness. She later told me that she arrived a day late to the conference, because her flight out of Boston got thrown out of whack by the storms that were pounding the east coast. After enduring a 20-hour travel nightmare, that one kind gesture from a stranger helped her feel welcomed and accepted. While I can’t recall what we talked about at the elevator, I can remember the smiles we both walked away with. That’s what happens, right? With one act of kindness, two people are affected. That’s how the kingdom of heaven comes near. Big or small, any act of compassionate welcome is a form of serving Christ. And welcoming him into whatever space we are in. It should be of no surprise that compassion is always first felt in the heart. This is where God planted Christ, the Divine Image of God, in us. To bear the image and likeness of God is to be like little Christs, proclaiming God’s glory in our relationships with God and with others. Paul reminds us that we share the same mind that was in Christ Jesus (Philippians 2:5). But do we have the same will to welcome and serve others in love as he did? When you pass by people, do you see a stranger, or the divine image of God? St. Theresa of Calcutta believed that in seeing the image of God in the other is to see others with the eyes and heart of Jesus. When Christ is all we see, our brothers and sisters, our friends, enemies, neighbors, and strangers alike, all become him. Just as we welcome them, we also welcome him. And the One who sent him.
Whether or not Colleen saw this man as made in the same divine image as her isn’t really the point. She saw another with the eyes of a compassionate heart and allowed God to move through her to act.
It doesn't take much to proclaim the gospel. A simple text message to check in with a friend who is going through a difficult time. Or a random act of kindness to a stranger without expecting anything in return. When we notice God in the other, and move to honor God in that person, the kingdom of heaven is ushered in. And our reward is full. Everything we do can be a holy act by taking the love and compassion you have for someone you care for and giving it to someone you don’t. Our job is not to “save” them or make them one of us because they are already one of us, one of God’s. Our job is to love them because in that love we are loving the Christ in them. Jesus sends us to proclaim the good news - that heaven has come here. I take that to mean that this space we call Anamesa is filled with the divine presence of heaven. Which means there are plenty of opportunities for us to welcome Christ. To see the divine all around us means to honor it - not with violence and war, but with love and compassion. If we can see Christ in everyone, then we might be more inclined to guard everyone’s dignity, nurse every wound, protect the rights of every beloved child of God. Jesus made it abundantly clear that salvation is intimately tied to how we embrace and honor this divine image in one another, especially those who are most vulnerable among us. In the last parable he taught, the parable of the sheep and goats (Matthew 25:31-46), Jesus said the way we treat one another is, ultimately, representative of our response toward him. He said, “Just as you did to the least of these your brothers and sisters, you did it to me.” Giving water to the thirsty, food to the hungry, justice to those who are oppressed and imprisoned. These are the greatest forms of worship we can offer God because we’re doing them directly to God. Compassion is not just a feeling or a state of mind. It’s an action. One which calls us to lay aside our personal comforts to meet the needs of others. This is what it means to love God, love others, and serve both. Jesus sends us to meet people where they are. And shows us how to use our own experiences as keys that unlock the door of our heart, so God’s love, grace, and mercy can flow freely through us. Jesus sends us into Anamesa, that space between our brothers and sisters, to meet those crying out and allow the constant flow of God’s love to alleviate their suffering. It doesn't have to be a grand heroic act. You don’t have to put yourself in harm’s way. Jesus said it can be as simple as giving someone a drink of cold water. The real gift they are receiving isn’t us, but Christ himself and the One who sent him. Work Cited Thank you to Rev. Ole Skjerbæk Madsen at christfulness.net for his words of inspiration on compassionate welcome. Adapted from The Smallest of Acts by Ian Macdonald on June 28, 2020, at jesusnotjesus.org. (accessed on June 29, 2023) Bartlett, David L and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol 3. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2011.
In Japan, it’s still common for parents to send their preschool age kids out into the world to run errands. Not only does it teach the younger generation how to be responsible and how to navigate the world, but it also teaches the community to be mindful of the most vulnerable among them.
As you will see in today’s reading, Jesus sends the Twelve on a similar type of errand. Although they took no money. And no note. They had something special that Jesus gave them to help them with their mission. Here's the story according to Matthew 10:1-8
You may not have caught this small but important shift that just happened here. In one sentence, the Twelve go from being called “disciples” to “apostles.”
You might be thinking, these are interchangeable names, right? Not really. One means “student.” And the other means “sent.” That’s to say a disciple is someone who is learning the disciplines of their craft, while an Apostle is someone who is sent to practice what they’ve learned. We don’t know the exact number of people who are following Jesus, but these Twelve that Matthew names are singled out for a specific mission. They are the ones who have been with him the longest, and who’ve observed firsthand how the gospel comes alive. So, it makes sense that Jesus would choose to send these guys out on a test run. Before they go, Jesus passes on some of his power so that they can heal people, cure every disease, and overcome any evil. This tells me that Jesus doubted their ability. And probably for good reason. We sometimes forget these guys didn’t start out as spiritual gurus. They were just like you and me – full of faults and foibles. They had bad days and bad attitudes, lapses of faith, and bitter failures. They were ordinary, everyday people like you and me, who made mistakes and misstatements. Jesus could have chosen the best and brightest from the rabbinical schools. Instead, he selected a group of slow learners who were untested and often spiritually dense. Most of them were young and inexperienced. Some were unexceptional fishermen. One a fanatical Jewish Nationalist. Another, a despised tax collector. And yet, “With all their faults and character flaws,” writes John MacArthur, “they carried on Jesus’ ministry, leaving an indelible impact on the world.” God bet the whole enchilada on these Twelve ordinary people. “There were no second string, or backup players. There was no Plan B if they failed.” God took a chance with them; revealing just how much faith God has in human beings. Talk about a risky endeavor. During my interview for seminary, I was asked what my greatest fear was. I confessed it was my lack of biblical and doctrinal knowledge. The woman interviewing me smiled and said, “Perfect. You’ll have less garbage to deconstruct.” Four years later, before I had mastered anything, I was handed a diploma. The very next day, on Father’s Day, I was ordained and sent out to share the gospel. I am here today because of this Holy Spirit Jesus first gave to these twelve ordinary people who didn’t have the luxury of seminary. Or time for that matter. From his baptism to his resurrection, Jesus’ entire ministry was roughly three years. The disciples training was barely half of that. In less than 18 months, Jesus taught and trained these ordinary men for the monumental task of ushering in the kingdom of heaven. With nothing more than the Holy Spirit, Jesus sent them to proclaim the gospel by being the living examples of it. (MacArthur)
Matthew’s passage assures us that one doesn’t need a seminary degree, or to have extensive knowledge in church history, doctrines, or creeds to be useful to God.
You just have to be willing to follow Christ. Which means you have to be willing to be sent by the Christ to live out the gospel like he did. So here’s the thing, if Discipleship is about learning God’s divine love, Apostleship is how we express that love in all the ways we engage and serve the other. The Twelve weren’t saints, or scholars, or even religious sages. They are merely a perfect example of what God can accomplish in any one of us. So, we can’t forget it’s not our power or ability that does anything. It’s all God. Jesus left us the Holy Spirit to be here among us and in us, working and loving others through us. God does all the heavy lifting. We just have to be willing to go where God’s love and mercy is needed. By following the way of Christ, we can make a difference in the world. We can help heal a broken people, and renounce evil as we know it, if we are willing to go. As kids we’re sent to school and summer camp (or the liquor store). When we grow up, we’re sent to college, to work, which for some of us could mean getting sent to new cities and new communities. We are always being sent somewhere between this space and that one. This tells me we’re always given opportunities to proclaim the good news - the kingdom of heaven has come near. Anamesa is that space in this heavenly kingdom that space between where you are now and where you are going where real needs are met. Jesus sends us there because he knows that’s where God needs us to bear the good fruit of the Spirit. Jesus sends us there because he knows there will always be someone who is hungry and thirsty – be it physical or spiritual. Jesus sends us there because he knows there will always be someone who is suffering from injustice or hurting from inequality. Jesus sends us because there are those who are poor, and marginalized and ostracized. Jesus sends us into Anamesa to love those who have none; to forgive those who need our forgiveness; to show mercy and grace to anyone who asks. This is what it means to follow him. To be like him. We might see ourselves as disciples, as students learning about the kingdom of heaven. But Jesus is calling us to be Apostles, to go and proclaim the good news by being visible agents of God’s love through works of charity and mercy. Love is our purpose. Love is our mission. Love is the bridge between heaven and earth that connects us to God. And God to us. Christ sends us to continue his mission of love. How long that takes isn’t the point. Love is a day-by-day job that starts now. And then starts over again tomorrow. And the next day and so on. So let us go, boldly and confidently, into Anamesa proclaiming the good news of God’s redemptive love by being the good news, sharing God’s love everywhere we go. Work Cited Adopted from A Dirty Dozen of Sorts from June 14, 2020. Bartlett, David L. and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word Year A, Vol. 3 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2011). MacArthur, John. Twelve Ordinary Men: How the Master Shaped His Disciples For Greatness And What He Want To Do With You. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2002). Samuel, Joshua. Discipleship and Mission. June 12, 2023 (accessed on June 18, 2023).
We’ve been amazed to see how people are engaging, forming friendships organically online. Without any prompting from us, people who once strangers began sharing their hearts; connecting in the text streams and praying and supporting one another beyond church service.
This is how the Holy Spirit works to make the gospel come alive; transcending time and space to bring us closer to God. And God closer to us. Which tells me if you want to get close to God, a good place to start is by getting closer with each other. Jesus was notorious for getting up close and personal with people. He always looked for the divine image in everyone; especially those society overlooked, rejected, or ignored. The gospels are full of stories about Jesus hanging out with the “wrong kind of people.” Like we’ll see in Matthew 9:9-13, he often does so in the most intimate of ways. As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax-collection station, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him. And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”
Jesus spent a lot of time practicing and participating in table fellowship. That is, he sat around the dinner table talking about the kingdom of God and showing us how to make it come alive.
Now, dinner parties were different back then. People didn’t sit on chairs around a long table. They reclined on the floor, close together on big pillows. There weren't tablecloths, fine china, or silverware. People simply ate with their fingers from bowls that were being passed around. It was an intimate affair to say the least. One where elbows touched, and backs leaned into one another. Because of your proximity, who you sat next to was important. For example, a wine merchant would want to sit next to someone who owned a vineyard or a fleet of boats so they could talk shop, make secret deals, and so on. For a religious leader like Jesus, you certainly wouldn’t sit next to someone like Matthew, a tax collector because in those days houses were open air, meaning anyone walking by could see in. Like the Pharisees, who where looking in and judging the situation. They knew no Jew worth his salt would be caught dead sharing a meal with a group like this one. And yet, this is where we find Jesus. By eating with those considered outcasts or morally compromised, Jesus brings God within reach; making God’s love available to all, regardless of their social status or perceived sin. By this public gesture Jesus makes his ministry know - that he came to bring salvation to all. No matter who you are, or what you’ve done, no one is beyond the reach of God's love, grace and redemption. But the Pharisees don’t like that idea. They, much like the Religious Right, wanted to keep God exclusively to themselves. In what will become a frequent question, they ask his disciples why their teacher eats with sinners. Hearing this, Jesus responds with scripture, something the Pharisees would have known well. Quoting from the prophet Hosea, Jesus answers them, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” In other words, what matters most to God is how you treat one another and not the rituals you keep. It’s about offering mercy and compassion rather than judgment. As followers of Jesus, we are challenged to embrace a spirit of inclusivity. One that honors and accepts the inherent value of every human being. After all, if scripture is to be trusted, we are all made in the image of God. Which tells me God is as close to us as we are to one another. If we want to know God, or feel God’s presence, then we need to get to know one another a little better. A few years ago, I was looking for something to help me get out of a rut I was in. So, I challenged myself to meet 30 strangers in 30 days. I called it KNOWvember. Since I began that journey, I’ve met hundreds of people from all over the world. And I’ve discovered we have more in common with each other than not. We’re all hurting in one form or another. We’re all looking for community and a place to belong. We’d like to see more peace and kindness, have less stress and more time to be with the people we love. We are all different. And yet, we are all the same. From unconditional love God made us all. Jesus knows that getting close to people is not only the way to find the divine in all situations, but it is also the way to real transformation, of individuals and communities. There is great power in being close to God and others. In his book, Just Mercy, Bryan Stevenson writes about the transformative power of proximity. Working with a man on death row, Stevenson discovered, “If you are willing to get closer to people who are suffering, you will find the power to change the world.” When we share proximity, we begin to understand each other’s complexity. As Stevenson learned firsthand, the closer we are to the other, the harder it gets to ignore their pain or the systems of injustice that have caused it. This is exactly how Jesus began to transform the people who came to him. He got up close and personal with their lives. He made their story his own. By eating with folks who have been judged and written off as “no good,” Jesus makes the kingdom of God come to life in real time. As Jazzy Bostock writes, “by hanging out with the marginalized, Jesus shows us where the gospel is most alive – where God is most needed.”Like Jesus said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, right?” When we see people who are different than us we must remember that in Jesus, God comes right up next to us…just to be in relationship with us. And it’s “from a place of relationship, we are made into the new creation that God wishes for us – changed into something more closely resembling true love.” To know God’s love requires a certain closeness to God. A distance that can be measured by the proximity of the person next to you, in front of you or behind you. It doesn’t matter if we do church in person or online. The gospel isn’t lived out in a box, with rituals or traditions. It’s lived out in the world, in all the ways we offer love, mercy, and compassion to one another, just as Jesus did. When we can get up close and personal with to those who think, vote, worship, or look different from us, judgment falls away, and healing and reconciling and transformation begin to take shape. When we see the image of God in all people, we are less incline to harm them; peace can prevail. When we live into our own divine image, like Jesus did, then others can come to know the glory of God’s redeeming love. So, as we leave here today, remember that Jesus taught us to look beyond superficial labels and stereotypes, and to recognize the inherent worth and dignity of every human being, no matter what. This might mean we have to confront hard truths about ourselves and our communities. It might mean feeling deeply uncomfortable; going to places we haven’t been to before. It might require us to be a community that challenge the social norms by welcoming everyone. To follow Jesus, as Matthew did, is to be filled with his compassion and his mercy – a power more compelling than some external sacrifice, or adherence to some empty religious ritual. Compassion begins within us, but it’s not meant to stay here with us. We must “always seek to be in relationship with others,” writes Richard Rohr, “finding little ways to love and serve others, especially those who are sick or poor and cannot pay anything back. Our hearts have been given to us so that they may be handed on. This is how we will begin to know ourselves inside this mystery called Love.” So, let me say it one last time. If you want to get close to God, a great place to start is right here, with one another. Work Cited Bostock, Jazzy. Proximate. June 5, 2023 (accessed on June 9, 2023). Rohr, Richard. A Spring within Us: A Book of Daily Meditations (Albuquerque, NM: CAC Publishing, 2016). Stevenson, Bryan. Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption. (New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2014). Whitley, Katerina Katsarka. The Lectionary Today. June 8, 2008 (accessed on June 9, 2023). I ran into a friend in the park the other day. While our dogs did dog things, she and I enjoyed some wonderful conversation. This friend, who I will call B because that’s the letter her name starts with, always has interesting questions and topics to discuss.
This day, B tells me, “I’ve been talking to God again.” Intrigued, I asked, “About what?” She told me her conversations covered “a lot of everything.” But before I could dig out any one thing in particular, B looked beyond me and the dogs, and just sort of whispered into the wind, “I told God, not yet. I don’t know if I am ready to trust you.” Her confession hung in space for a moment before she shifted her focus back to me, hoping I had the answer. But how do you convince someone to trust God? All I could say was, “God isn’t forcing you to decide. God is just standing here, vulnerable like we are, waiting for us to say ‘Yes.’” I can see why B was nervous. Look what happened to Noah when he said yes to God. Same thing with Abraham, Moses, Isaiah, and Mary. God used them in ways they never thought possible about themselves. Same is true when Rev. Dawn, Rev. Bob, Pastor Carol, and I said all said “Yes” to God. Yet, it wasn’t our yes that got us to where we are today, but God who first said yes to us. “As surely as God is faithful, our word to you is not “Yes and No.” For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you, was not “Yes and No,” but … in him every one of God’s promises is a “Yes…” (1 Cor. 1:18-20) Trusting God begins first by agreeing to trust. And a simple yes, is all it takes to begin your spiritual journey. Theologian Elizabeth Johnson (born 1941) explores what each person in the Trinity offers to us in our experience of the world and why it matters. This is an excerpt from a daily devotional from the Center For Action and Contemplation on June 8, 2023.
God is God as Spirit-Sophia, the mobile, pure, people-loving Spirit who pervades every wretched corner, wailing at the waste, releasing power that enables fresh starts. Her energy quickens the earth to life, her beauty shines in the stars, her strength breaks forth in every fragment of shalom and renewal…. From generation to generation she enters into holy souls, and not so holy ones, to make them friends of God and prophets, thereby making human beings allies of God’s redeeming purpose. What we can say is this: Sophia-God dwells in the world at its center and at its edges, an active vitality crying out in labor, birthing the new creation. Fire, wind, water, and the color purple are her signs. God is God again as Jesus Christ, Sophia’s child and prophet, and yes, Sophia herself personally pitching her tent in the flesh of humanity to teach the paths of justice. The shape of the historical life of this crucified prophet, risen from the dead, reveals the shape of Holy Wisdom’s love for the world. It is a love that enters in and takes part, that revels at the feasting of outcasts in inclusive table community…. What we can say is this: Sophia-God is irreversibly connected with the joy and anguish of human history, in the flesh; in the power of Spirit-Sophia Jesus now takes on a new communal identity as the risen Christ, the body of all those women and men who share in the transformation of the world through compassionate, delighting, and suffering love. In solidarity with his memory and empowered by the same Spirit, the little flock is configured into a sacrament of the world’s salvation, empowered to shape communities of freedom and solidarity. God is God again as unimaginable abyss of livingness…. Without this still-point of the turning world there would be no dance, and there is only the dance; without this silence there would be no music or word, which is where she can be heard; without this eclipse the rays of her fiery spirit would consume the world. What we can say is this: Holy Wisdom is a hidden God, absolute holy mystery. And this is an absolutely holy mystery of love, bent on the world’s healing and liberation through all of history’s reversals and defeats. Work Cited: Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse, 10th anniv. ed. (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 2002), 213–214. Three In OneTheologian Elizabeth Johnson (born 1941) explores what each person in the Trinity offers to us in our experience of the world and why it matters. This is from a daily devotional from the Center of Action and Contemplation on June 8, 2023.
she writes: God is God as Spirit-Sophia, the mobile, pure, people-loving Spirit who pervades every wretched corner, wailing at the waste, releasing power that enables fresh starts. Her energy quickens the earth to life, her beauty shines in the stars, her strength breaks forth in every fragment of shalom and renewal…. From generation to generation she enters into holy souls, and not so holy ones, to make them friends of God and prophets, thereby making human beings allies of God’s redeeming purpose. What we can say is this: Sophia-God dwells in the world at its center and at its edges, an active vitality crying out in labor, birthing the new creation. Fire, wind, water, and the color purple are her signs. God is God again as Jesus Christ, Sophia’s child and prophet, and yes, Sophia herself personally pitching her tent in the flesh of humanity to teach the paths of justice. The shape of the historical life of this crucified prophet, risen from the dead, reveals the shape of Holy Wisdom’s love for the world. It is a love that enters in and takes part, that revels at the feasting of outcasts in inclusive table community…. What we can say is this: Sophia-God is irreversibly connected with the joy and anguish of human history, in the flesh; in the power of Spirit-Sophia Jesus now takes on a new communal identity as the risen Christ, the body of all those women and men who share in the transformation of the world through compassionate, delighting, and suffering love. In solidarity with his memory and empowered by the same Spirit, the little flock is configured into a sacrament of the world’s salvation, empowered to shape communities of freedom and solidarity. God is God again as unimaginable abyss of livingness…. Without this still-point of the turning world there would be no dance, and there is only the dance; without this silence there would be no music or word, which is where she can be heard; without this eclipse the rays of her fiery spirit would consume the world. What we can say is this: Holy Wisdom is a hidden God, absolute holy mystery. And this is an absolutely holy mystery of love, bent on the world’s healing and liberation through all of history’s reversals and defeats. Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse, 10th anniv. ed. (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 2002), 213–214. "Greater love has no one than this, that a person will lay down his life for his friends." The author of the Gospel of John wrote this, attributing it to Jesus. As the story goes, he actually did just that - gave his life for his friends, and even people he never met. It's hard for me, sometimes, to make sense of this idea. Some people say it's the price God needed to pay for human sin. But that makes zero sense to me. If God is so great, what could anyone ever do to appease such a need? Some will argue that only God could give an atoning sacrifice that was good enough for God. They use that to explain why God became incarnate in the very human Jesus of Nazareth. I used to think that made sense, in a mythical sort of way. But not any more. I still believe in the incarnation, because that makes sense. As Richard Rohr put it, "God loves things by becoming them." I get that. As for the rest...I fear we might be overblowing it a bit in order to explain things that aren't really a part of the whole God loving and becoming one with us.
Love is a gift. But it's a gift that is both given and received. We can give it just as much as we can receive it. They are one in the same. God gave us a great gift, eternal and steadfast love that is both unconditional and freely given. We can accept it if we want it. Or not. But if we do accept it, then we have to share it in all the ways we show love to one another. Part of that is serving others. We do not do this to appease God. We do this to please others so that they will receive the gift of love and pay it forward. Like the greatest Muhammad Ali is quoted as saying, "Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth." I would challenge you to give at least one hour a week of service to a local food pantry or shelter, perhaps a non-profit charity or a local religious organization. But to do so anonymously. Like Jesus told his students, "Don't let your right hand know what your left hand is doing." |
Ian MacdonaldAn ex-copywriter turned punk rock pastor and peacemaker who dedicates his life to making the world a better place for all humanity. "that they all might be one" ~John 17:21“Prius vita quam doctrina.”
~ St. Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) * “Life is more important than doctrine.”
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