Christ the King Election Luke 23:33-43

It has been a long time since we heard the words of Jesus’ baptism and his walk through the wilderness with the three great temptations—that of starvation, power, and safety. It has been six months since we heard the words of Pentecost and the birth of mission in the Church. We have walked the roads of Palestine to the north and to the south. We have crossed the sea of Galilee during times of storm only to encounter a demoniac raging in the tombs of the dead. In these last few weeks we have listened and watched as Jesus has returned to the seat of power of his day—the city of peace (Jerusalem). We do not hear the story now, but we remember Palm Sunday and the joyous entry into the city. Now on the last day of our liturgical year we hear part of the Good Friday story again.

While we have been making this journey with Jesus, we have also been struggling in our own wilderness temptation time. We too have been considering the issues of putting food on the table. We too have been considering who holds the power and whether our lives matter. We too have been wondering about our own safety. We have traveled the roads of our time, to the north and to the south, to the east and to the west. We have heard the stories of people across our nation—stories of pain and ridicule, stories of unjust treatment and loss of jobs, stories that claim that our once great nation needs to become great again, and stories of continued confidence in the American people and hope for the future.

In both of these times an election has taken place. The people of first century Palestine chose Jesus Barabbas over Jesus Bar Joseph. We have elected Donald Trump over Hillary Clinton. Do not misunderstand me. I am not trying to equate Hillary Clinton with Jesus, our Messiah, nor am I trying to say that Donald Trump is equal to Barabbas. I am only saying that an election has taken place.

In both of these times, people have stood around in shock. The people of Jerusalem those many years ago because of the brutality of the crucifixion. The people of our time because, Republican or Democrat, no one was really prepared for the outcome that we have.

Well, the bad news for the people of first century Palestine was sudden darkness, earthquakes, and the tearing open of the curtain that separated the Holy of Holies, the inner sanctum wherein it was thought that the true presence of God resided, from the outer world. The bad news for us today is, there are some who think that their world has been shaken, that there is a darkness that is covering their world, and that the constitution will be gutted.  There are a lot of people who are upset with the decision that was made, and there will be some civil unrest because of it. The good news is, the people of first century Palestine survived, and we will get through it too.

This is just to show that there are parallels between what we read in Scripture and what goes on in our lives. In the midst of these events, Christ was able to speak words of forgiveness and promise. In a world of unrest, these words gave people hope, direction and peace then, and we can find hope, direction, and peace in them today.

For in spite of the elections that took place then and now, there is another election to consider. It is the election that God chooses to engage in. This election is not for a particular person over another, but the election of choosing us to be God’s Good News Proclaimers to the world.

In spite of our sometimes misguided decisions, God chose and chooses to reveal Godself to us in the person of Jesus Christ. Through his life, death, and resurrection, God chose and chooses to forgive us, to lift us up daily when we fall into sinful death producing ways. God chose and chooses to lift us up from sin into transformative, life giving ways of interacting with our neighbors. In this time of the resurrection, Jesus chose and chooses to walk with us on the roads we travel as he walked with the two friends on the road to Emmaus, revealing himself in the breaking of the bread. Through the Holy Spirit, we continue to find Christ among us, in our midst, in the cries of help from our neighbors and in the words of prayers of supplication. We find Christ’s presence on crowded city streets and in the quiet peace of our fields.

On this day of days, this Christ the King day, we take time to remember and be reminded that life, not just the day to day life we share in God’s kingdom now, but LIFE, given to us in Baptism and nurtured and strengthened at the Lord’s table; that LIFE that can only be truly known in the fullness of God’s presence in the fullness of God’s kingdom is ours because Christ first elected, that is, chose us.

In the awesome spectacle of the cross, the pinnacle from which Jesus viewed the world, he did not succumb to the temptation again. He chose to forgive even then and even as we continue to not always know what we are doing. So we say with one of the criminals, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

To the surprise of the criminal then and to our surprise yet today, the promise is, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” With the word, “today,” we also are reminded of all of the todays in Luke. “Today, a savior is born to you who is Christ the Lord.” We hear Jesus quoting Isaiah and claiming his authority on earth, “The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to bring release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.... TODAY this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” We hear Jesus’ words to Zacchaeus, “Today, salvation has come to this house.” With these words of, “Today,” let us join together, in the strength of that promise of a place of caring and peace, to work in Christ’s name for God’s kingdom to come, God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven, to make our place in God’s kingdom also a place of caring and peace; a place that claims and crowns God’s presence as Lord of all.

Thoughts that led me to this place.

As Christ is tempted in the wilderness three times by Satan, so now on the cross, Jesus is tempted three times to save himself. But Jesus does not need to be saved. We are the ones who need to be saved and for us, Jesus resists the temptation.

As Satan challenges Jesus to change the stone into bread, so now, the soldier tempts Jesus to partake of the sour wine. Yet it is only through Christ overcoming these temptations that we are able to come to know the true bread and wine; that we are able to know the body and blood of Christ.

In the wilderness temptations, Jesus is taken to a high place to see the wonders of the world and tempted by power. On the cross, Jesus is tempted by power in the soldiers, the symbol of Roman power in the world.

The third wilderness temptation involves the pinnacle of the temple. Here we witness Jesus on the pinnacle of the cross. Here too, Jesus does not throw himself down. In the dialog between the criminals we are reminded that we should not put the Lord our God to the test.

In the four Lucan statements of “today,” we are reminded of the angels words, “Do not be afraid, for today, a savior ….” In Jesus’ sermon we are reminded that God’s prophesies are fulfilled. We are told that salvation comes to the house of the innocent (Zacchaeus), and we hear the proclamation of the soldier at the cross, “Surely this man was innocent!”

Lastly, the words, “Today, you will be with me in paradise,” point to a world of “todays” in Christ’s presence and peace, to the new Jerusalem (city of peace).

Luke 23 tugs at all of the strings from previous passages—from the unjust judge, from the unrighteous stewards, from the lost sons and daughters who have gone on their own way. All of this is to prepare us for the Sunday morning event that will change the world. It is not the cross event that changes the world, but the cross leads to the event that changes the world.

And yes, Paul’s words echo to us this day. That Christ did this amazing thing once, for all; for Jew and Greek, male and female, slave and free, [Muslim and Christian, privileged and oppressed, Republican and Democrat, LGBTQ and straight, abled and disabled]. Now we only need to determine how restricted we want “all” to be.

Do Not Be Terrified Luke 21:5-19

I start preparing for worship on Sunday night. That means that I started reading this text last Sunday night. As I read the text, I was thinking about the world at that moment, as the elections were drawing near, of the high feelings, the polarized status, the inflammatory language that had become common place and somehow praise worthy. I wondered how Hilary Clinton was going to heal the rift that had grown between Democrat and Republican. Of course, those thoughts were all based on Sunday. They had nothing to do with Wednesday.

Among my friends, many were positive that Clinton was going to win. They too, were living in a Sunday/Monday world. How upset they were on Wednesday morning. Meeting with pastors on Wednesday morning I heard, “What are we going to preach on Sunday?” In the midst of their psychic pain and confusion, they had no idea. The stones of their sacred structures had tumbled. Their perspective of the world had shifted, and their sense of reality had been challenged.

So I asked if any of them had read the text for this week yet? Most of them had been so involved in the election that they had not taken time to do that. So I said something that I thought was a given. “I’m guessing that we are going to proclaim the Gospel.”

One of my friends said, “But it feels like the world has ended.”

I said, “Have you read the text?”

What an amazing thing that we have been given this text on this day in our lives. Here we are reminded that ends are not always ends. End does not mean that it is over. Ends are the places of new beginnings. There will be wars and insurrections. “Do not be terrified.” The temple will be destroyed. “Do not be terrified.” There will be famines and plagues in parts of the world. “Do not be terrified.” Our political system is changing. “Do not be terrified.”

When we are brought before kings and governors, or the judicial bodies of our world, when your life looks like it is in the dumpster, Luke, reporting Jesus’ words for us, says, “This will be an opportunity for bearing witness, giving testimony, proclaiming God’s justice for the world, of who it is that sustains and supports you in your life. Is it going to be Donald Trump and the American flag? Or, will it be God, revealed to us in the person of Jesus Christ and his promise of salvation? Is it going to be a political system that has always been broken? Or, is it going to be a life of striving for God’s justice in the world? This is the time for deciding.”

Yes, you may be betrayed by parents, brothers and sisters, relatives, and friends. You may be hated by the people around you. In extreme circumstances, you may die, but, in the midst of the turmoil of the day, we find that this is our time—our time as faithful people to stand up and declare who and whose we are.  This is our time to remember God’s commands and Jesus’ ministry of protecting and caring for the widow, the orphans, the strangers, and the poor.  This is our time as faithful people to go out into the world, as Jesus did, to lift up the social dead into new ways of living. This is our time to tell the world in which we live and the government that we have that this is where WE want to go.

So many people have said, “We want change. We don’t even care what kind of change it is. We just want change.” And we find that we are living in a world that is waiting and looking for direction. We, as a faithful, Christian, living community have been given the awesome opportunity to speak, to make our voices heard in the public square, to make our voices heard in all the places of governance that we have—in our municipalities, in our states, and in the halls of Congress with the mouth and wisdom of God that our opponents cannot withstand or contradict. We have been given the opportunity to point out the direction. What an amazing gift!

We know that the stones of the temple will be cast down. Even the people of Luke’s time knew that because, at the time Luke was written, the temple had already been destroyed. This amazing temple building was totally destroyed in 70 C.E., fifteen to twenty years before the time of Luke’s writing.

Yet, if you were into architecture, this was one of the most amazing buildings of its time. It was a major architectural accomplishment of its day. The courtyards were cantilevered over the marketplace below it, and it was raised up above the city walls. From a distance, it looked like the temple was floating in the air over the city. Ancient historians say that it was built of the finest white limestone and crowned with gold. Indeed, when the sun came out and shined on it, it was so brilliant that it hurt the eyes to look at it.

In other Gospel accounts we hear that it had taken forty-three years to build it, so the thought of destroying it is terrifying. Think about it, forty-three years. Yes, it was an architectural marvel, but what is man-made is susceptible to erosion, corrosion, rust and general deterioration. Eventually it falls apart. Even wonders like the Great China wall need continuous maintenance. Without that maintenance it will disappear, it will vanish into the earth. So it is with the other wonders of the ancient world. The colossus of Rhodes? The hanging gardens of Babylon? The library of Alexandria? They are all gone. Only the Great Pyramid continues to be present in our world. All of the other wonders of the world only exist in ruins—and the British museum.

It is time to remember that our salvation does not come in temple buildings, that Jesus is not our personal property redeemer. Jesus has come to save US. It is time to remember, in us, with us, and through us, Christ is made known to the world around us. It is time to remember, by our endurance we will gain our lives. We will gain, not just our own life, but we will gain the lives of those around us, for in remembering the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor, in going out into the world to the social dead and in raising them up into our community of life, we do not only gain our lives, but we gain their relationship with us and their lives and support as well. Let us therefore walk together in the body of Christ, which we have entered through Baptism where we were first lifted up from sin and death in Christ’s living body for the world.

“What are we going to preach?” my colleagues asked, and I had nothing to say because I thought it was all too apparent. In the midst of great change, we preach what we have always preached—the one who comes to walk among us, the one who leads us and teaches us, the one who died to save us, continues to walk with us and among us. That one, the Christ, continues to be with us this day and every day as we endure the trials of this world, that Christ is active and vocal in our midst. Christ continues to give us a mouth with words of wisdom that do not come from the world, but for the world

My brothers and sisters in Christ, as we go out into our lives, into our places of work, may our voices be heard. May we find the ear of those who are in power, that they might listen to us and that they might hear, really hear, the cries of God’s people and do something about it.

Not long ago, we heard the story of the unjust judge and the widow, of our need to pray persistently. So, let us, with the persistently praying widow make, our voices known to those judges, until all those around us are embarrassed to the point of letting us have our way whether or not they respect us, and that our way might be the way of God’s justice for the world. Let our voices be heard by those who are in power and let them act in our favor simply because they will not have us continue to speak against them when it comes to God’s justice in the world.

Whether you voted for Mr. Trump or Mrs. Clinton, much work needs to be done. Let us roll up our sleeves and begin the work that God is giving us.

What does resurrection mean? Luke 20:27-38

Before I begin, how many of you have thought about the willingness of the seventh brother on the eve of his wedding? When I was in catechism and had to study this story as a means of getting us to talk about what the resurrection meant to us, I have to admit that the only thing I could think of was, “How dumb are these guys?” I was 14, and I knew that I would be heading for the hills if I were the seventh brother. Actually, I thought that I might be on the road if I were the fourth brother. I imagined that I didn’t really like my third brother, so I didn’t want to warn him, but I knew my place. I had no idea about the resurrection and what it meant, but I knew that I would have serious concerns about my future wife’s mental health.

Although this is the alternate text for All Saint’s Sunday, I feel that it is wonderfully appropriate that we read this parable today. How wonderfully rich to question life in the resurrection at this time in particular as we celebrate All Saints Sunday. So let us consider this brazen affront to Jesus and to our faith in this time of grateful remembrance.

Within the context of this day and the challenge of this text, we are confronted with “What does the resurrection mean?” We have to understand that life after death was not a new idea in Jesus’ time. But that there was a debate between some Jewish people about life after death. Those who only read the Books of Moses, thought that there was no after life. The Sadducees were part of this group, but they were already in the minority in Jesus’ time. Many of the cultures around the Mediterranean Sea and around the world already believed in an afterlife, but they would be vastly different from what our Christian understanding of heaven is.

The Greeks had hades, a place where warriors could fight and die day after day, only to awaken the next day to fight again. Okay, it wasn’t all that great for women and children, but none-the-less, they had a place of life after death.

The Egyptians had the great necropolis, the city of the righteous dead, who passed the judgment of Osiris, where they lived in comfort, served by those who were righteous enough but not the most righteous. They ate well and were able to take many of their earthly riches with them. Life in the necropolis was highly ordered and reflected the order of the society and culture they had lived in during this life time. It was a great place for the wealthy who had many possessions to bring with them, but not so hot for the poor.

The Norse had their own twist on life after death with Valhalla. It was a place of drinking and fighting, with valorous storytelling and songs, great feasts, and dancing. It was not a place where women faired very well either. They were expected to cook the meals, brew the beer and mead, serve at the tables, clean the victory halls and entertain the men throughout eternity. Women were sent to Valhalla with their men as sacrifices. Children need not apply.

These conceptions of the afterlife were highly restrictive. Only the best of the best were welcomed. At best it was a segregated space for the elite of the world. It reminds me of the story. When this man died, Saint Peter welcomed the person at the pearly gate and said, “Well, there are several places in heaven that you might want to live in throughout eternity. So, let me show you around. He and the person went from place to place. Saint Peter was excited to point out the high points of each place and why the person might choose that location. As they were walking along one of the golden paths, Saint Peter suddenly said, “Now you are going to have to be very quiet until we get to the other side of those trees.”

The person wanted to ask why, but Saint Peter put his finger over his lips. As they tip-toed by, the man saw all kinds of people singing and laughing, playing games and having a picnic. It really looked like a lot of fun.

So when they got beyond the trees, the person finally blurted out, “Why did I have to be quiet there. They were making more than enough noise by themselves. I doubt that they could have heard me if I shouted. What’s the deal?”

Saint Peter said, “We have to be quiet because they are the pious Lutherans and they think that they are the only ones up here.

These stories of heaven as a place of privilege depend on a significant part of the population not being allowed in. Those people are usually resigned to hell. I mean, what kind of fun is heaven if there isn’t a hell? How can the presence of God be open to just anyone?

When we say those words, “He descended into hell, and on the third day he rose again,” we aren’t really saying that Jesus might have taken those people with him into heaven are we? Seriously, when I get to heaven, am I going to have to live next door to that person who never mowed the yard and left trash all over the place am I? We have all kinds of ways of asking the Sadducees question about whose wife will this woman be? And when we do that, we miss the point that Jesus is trying to make.

Living in the eternal presence of God means that life will be different. We will be able to live in a place where God will be first in all that we do. The order of this world will no longer determine our behaviors. Jesus tells us that in a world that thinks of women as property to be sold, traded, or given away in marriage, that that will no longer happen. All people are going to be recognized as valuable and loved. We will no longer belong to one another, but we will belong to God, in relationship with one another in ways that lift up our value. Indeed, this is not a land of the dead that practices deadly games of war. Heaven is not a place that continues to grant privilege to the wealthy, at the expense of the poor. It is not a place where we celebrate our own actions on earth like recounting the tenth inning of the Cubs/Indians game. Heaven is that place where we are invited into Sabbath time to be guests in God’s presence with the angels and like them we will die no more but be called the children of God. As such, we will live in the fullness of our relationships with God and one another.  

In the meantime, in anticipation of that great banquet time with Christ, we continue to see the imago dei, that is, God’s image. reflected to us in the face of our neighbor. We mourn and celebrate the relationships we have with those who have gone before us and value those around us. And, with the promise and hope of the resurrection we continue to lift our neighbors up into the relationships we have with one another and Christ. Claiming, with confidence in the one who is risen from the dead, that God is God of the living, and, although some are dead to us, that they continue to be alive with Christ in the fullness of their relationship with God. In the midst of the craziness and chaos of this world, in the midst of the pain and the sorrow that we know, we can still say with Job, “I know that my redeemer lives and at the last he will stand upon the earth...Then…I shall see God.” With the writer of 2 Thessalonians we can say to one another, “Now may our Lord, Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.”

What will heaven be like? I really can’t tell you, but I can say that the one who is risen from the dead, that is Jesus Christ, has gone before us and waits for us there with welcome and love.

This is Reformation Sunday, Luke 19:1-10 (ref. corrected 10/23/22)

Almost 499 years ago, Martin Luther posted 95 theses on the door of the Wittenberg chapel inviting the scholars and the clergy of the day to come and debate 95 topics concerning the proclamation of the Gospel in Luther’s time. (In a recent lecture concerning the issues of the Reformation, Dr. Duane Priebe at Wartburg Seminary said, “After almost 500 years, we have made progress. We only need to address about 90 of the original theses today.”) These 95 theses continue to challenge us and continue to lead us into new ways of living in God’s word. I am not going to go into all 95 theses today and talk about where we have made headway and where we have grave work to do, but what I want you to hear in this time of reformation is Martin Luther did not write these theses, create the Reformation, and then it was over. Rather Martin Luther started a movement of reformation 499 years ago that continues to this day. I also want you to hear and understand that the reformation started by Martin Luther in 1517 will not end in our time. The work of reform will always challenge us to shape the work of the church with our ministry to meet the needs of our neighbor for it is this concept of worshipping God in service to our neighbor where we find some of our most challenging Lutheran work. It is so challenging that Luther himself was not able to fully embrace it. Yes, these statements of reform continue to challenge us to think about how we think about the world around us and what it is that we can do with the gifts we have been given to meet the needs of our neighbor.

It is ironic then, that this challenge to the church in 1517 which should have been not much more than a ripple in the currents of scholastic time, certainly not much more than a poorly attended workshop for public debate about the poor practices of the church in a poverty- and disease-ridden, even Black Plague-ridden world, that so much should have come out of these relatively obscure challenges. Yet, in today’s language, these statements concerning the state of the church and concerns of our faith struck a note with the people of the time and it went VIRAL. It was able to go viral because of the new technology of Luther’s day. You see the printing press had just been invented and the product of writing and the making of books was ready to play a major role in the lives of the Western World.

How appropriate it is then, to look at the technology of Luther’s time and the changes that occurred. Then, when we consider the changes in our technology and our ability to communicate our ideas, we can get a glimpse of the challenges we face in our world.  So it is, in the midst of this time of great change, that we look to Luther’s time for strategies and encouragement to embrace our new technologies to be the church proclaiming the Gospel in entirely new and previously unconsidered ways—to be places of prayer, praise, and thanksgiving at all times and in all places, even in cyber-space. With this technology, we are challenged to find ways to fully appreciate our relationship with God in the relationship with our neighbor.

It is this theology of being in relationship with God in the relationship of our neighbor that is the springboard for the heart of Lutheran thought. It is this concept, this thought—that we gather for the sake of our neighbor—that continues, through the power of the Holy Spirit, to drive us into the world of ministry around us creating safe places for discussing and debating the issues of our time.

It is this gathering of the unclean and unclaimed neighbor that continues to intrigue and challenge me. For this reason, I believe that it is appropriate that we should be hearing the story of Zacchaeus this year. In this story, Jesus demonstrates the radical notion of neighbor and what a society of all people living for the benefit of all might look like. It is a great example of how relationships of mutual appreciation can build up the whole body of Christ. In this story today, we see the beginnings of what it means to be in ministry and service to our neighbor.

Zacchaeus is by all standards a small man, not able to see because of the crowd. Now those of you who are vertically challenged can appreciate how difficult it is to see what is going on when you are packed in in a restricted area. I have to admit that after I got my sight back, this was not usually my problem, but at a youth gathering in Washington D.C. a number of years ago, one of the young women who had attached herself to our group was only about 4 ½ feet tall. At a concert one night, she was swallowed up by the crowd of 20,000 teen agers.

There was no tree to climb, so I invited her to stand on my shoulders. When I invited her to get up there, I had thought it was only going to be for a short time, but once she got up there, she was so excited to be able to see the whole crowd and the band that she refused to come down. She was totally amazed at how the perspective of the world had changed for her and so for the next hour, she danced, and shouted from her new perch.

It is from this place of new perspective, that Zacchaeus encounters Jesus. Unlike my tiny dancer, Zacchaeus comes down when Jesus calls him and the radical service community begins. Seeking Jesus, Zacchaeus discovers that he is being sought. This mutual seeking leads to Jesus going to Zacchaeus’ house where they discuss the needs of the people and the issues of the world.

In the midst of the conversation and hospitality of Zacchaeus’ house we find that Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector and therefore a despised representative of Roman authority, turns out to be a good guy. He gives half of his money to the poor and repays those who have been taken advantage of four times the amount of their grievance. For this, Jesus claims Zacchaeus as a Son of Abraham, lifting him from a place of shame into a place of dignity. Transforming his life in relationship with those around him. Of course, this is where the understanding of neighbor gets difficult.

We witnessed back in Chapter 15, the Scribes and the Pharisees grumbling because Jesus was eating with tax collectors and sinners. Now all of the people are upset because Jesus is no longer eating with any old tax collector, he is identifying himself with the chief tax collector. So we witness that there is challenge to this new “community of neighbor” when it extends beyond our usual associates. When neighbor extends beyond family and associated friends, when neighbor extends to those who rule over us and we find we need to be in relationship with them in a way that honors them, we get uncomfortable. When we are called to interpret our neighbor’s action in the best possible light, even when our neighbor’s actions challenge us, we begin to squirm a little. Yet, it is this uncomfortable place of relationship of understanding that Jesus continues to call us to for Jesus insists on identifying with the sinner. What good news for us!

In this radical community that Jesus is gathering around him, we find ourselves worthy of being his disciples for we too are sinners. We recognize in Jesus’ words of appreciation and hospitality, the dignity that speaks of God’s image being shown in all people since the beginning of creation in Genesis. In Zacchaeus’ hospitality, we witness the life-transforming possibilities when we honor our neighbors and live in service to them.

This radical community of living in service to our neighbor encompasses the rich and the poor, the rulers and the ruled, tax collectors and taxpayers, men and women, slave and free, the saved and the lost. Indeed, God’s kingdom includes all of the God-created people. So, as one young person said to me when I got excited about this subject at catechism one night, “Chill. Deal with it.”

On this Reformation Day, we witness in the Zacchaeus story the beginnings of this radical community, begun for our sake, showing God’s intention for us to live with one another in communities of dignity with love, acceptance, and forgiveness. And yes, even judgment, but the judgment is not there to disparage, demean, or to shun, rather judgment is for correction and instruction in God’s ways that seek to bring all people into communities of hope, peace and reformation.

We come to this Reformation Day, 499 years later, being called to truly look, to truly notice, the people around us, to claim them, to recognize them, to acknowledge their dignity, and to extend to them the radical hospitality that Jesus first teaches us thousands of years ago and which Luther echoes in his reforming theology of life in service to our neighbor. Jesus tells us that he has come seeking to save the lost. Indeed, without our neighbors, we are lost for it is this gift of community relationships that God has given us in creation that calls us always to serve one another in mutual love.

In his booklet, “The Freedom of the Christian,” Luther writes that we are “freed to be Lord of all, servant of none.” and, “servant of all, lord of none.” We are called to claim our place in God’s kingdom while building up the people around us in the body of Christ—to find new ways of being God’s community, that is, new ways of expressing God’s love and caring for one another. In these new ways, we gather in places like this for prayer, praise and thanksgiving.

It is sort of like an Alzheimer unit I visited in the Chicago area one time. At 4 o’clock every afternoon the people became anxious and restless. Many complained that they couldn’t stay any longer, they had to go home. After some time, the care facility installed a revolving door at the end of a hall with only one opening. So, at 4 o’clock those who needed to go home were invited to go through the revolving door. The staff would hold their coats, give them their hats and cheerily say, “See you tomorrow.”

The person would go into the revolving door and come out again facing the other way down the hall and another staff person would say, “How was your day?” Responding to the question, one patient said, “Work was good, but the traffic was hell.” Afterwards, he went to his room, got ready for supper and happily went to bed.

We too have been given a revolving door for the relief of the anxieties and pressures of the world. We come to this place that is set aside, called holy, this place of identity naming and claiming, gathering with one another, telling our stories, hearing God’s word for us, receiving forgiveness and being refreshed at Christ’s table, and then, returning to our places of service, we joyfully welcome the people God sends us until that day when we are joyfully welcomed into the fullness of God’s kingdom.

Continuing in Martin Luther’s Reformation work, may you know Christ’s presence and peace as we walk in Christ’s ways using all that we have been given including our gifts of technology for the sake of proclaiming Christ’s good news to those around us.

typos corrected 10/23/22

There, But for the Grace of God, Go I Luke 18:9-14

Bradley Hanson in his book, Introduction to Christian Doctrine, says that how we think about God shapes and determines what we think about God. In a like manner, I believe that how we think about prayer shapes and determines what we pray. If prayer is to be a public event, then the language of the prayer may be very formal. We hear these prayers in our worship service in the prayer of the day, the offertory prayer, the prayers of the people, and the prayers contained in the Eucharist. These prayers have various functions, but the language is pretty formal and may use metaphors and similes to call forth emotional and psychological energy for worship. If prayer is about speaking justice, then the language may be challenging and abrasive to the ears of those who hear those pleas while evoking God’s empathy and care. If prayer is our personal conversation with God throughout the day, prayer may sound a lot like how we talk to our friends and may contain utterances of thanks, amazement, cries for help, assistance, spiritual strength, and forgiveness.

How we think about prayer even determines the frequency of praying. If prayer is a public thing, then we may not pray more often than once or twice a month, maybe weekly. If prayer is about crying for justice, depending on how satisfied you are with your life, you may only pray once or twice a year. But if prayer is a conversation with God, then you may be praying constantly even with base and common words. A professor I knew once said that within the most profane oath lies a prayer for help. Again I want to say, how we think of prayer shapes and determines what we pray.

If last week’s text was about the need to pray always without losing heart, then this week’s text is teaching us how to think about prayer and what to pray for. Let us first recognize the relationship between these two parables. Last week we heard about the judge that was not just, that is unrighteous, who does not fear God nor respects people. Yet because he thinks highly of himself, he grants justice (righteousness) to the widow who threatens to make him look bad in public.

This week, in another parable told at the same time, Jesus tells us of a Pharisee who has convinced himself that he is justified (righteous) by his own works, and, because of these great works that he has done, he is more important than the people around him. He regards those who are not like him as literally being nothing, of no value, not worth thinking about. Those other people are so far from him socially that he doesn’t even stand with the other person; he stands by himself. He is so self-satisfied that, when he prays, he begins with thanking God that he is not like those other disgusting people.

The first of the list of people that the Pharisee does not want to be like are thieves. The word in Greek is more than stealing, it carries with it the sense of rapacious people or animals like wolves that tear at the flesh that they eat until they are so utterly sated they may vomit their food and leave it in order to eat more; or, more often, after vomiting their food, they will eat it again. They take and consume because they can, not out of need. Thieving at another level includes people who have more than what they need while others do not have enough. Thievery here is not actively taking something from another, but it includes withholding what our neighbor needs when we have plenty.

The second group of people are described as rogues. The word in Greek literally means unjust or unrighteous. Merchants who don’t use accurate weights for weighing or maybe put their thumb on the scale to add a little weight for a little more money are unrighteous. Bankers who charge interest and especially high interest are unrighteous. Anyone who misrepresents themselves or their work or people who do not care for the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor are unrighteous.

The third group are adulterers. Biblically speaking adultery is unfaithfulness to one’s spouse, but, in our relationship with God, adultery can mean putting trust in someone or something other than Godself. As a matter of fact, adultery is much more often cited as being the behavior of Israel consorting with other gods and nations than it is used for the relationship between a man and a woman. In terms of last week’s story, it is not revering or fearing God.

The last and lowest category that the Pharisee is thankful he is not like is the tax collector, the one responsible for money flowing from the masses to those in charge. Now in Jesus’ time, the job of being tax collectors was particularly difficult. They represented the government or the ordering body. When the Roman government decided it needed a certain amount of money to be raised in various parts of the empire, that is, the people were to be taxed, the governing bodies of the various parts of the empire would decide where that money was to come from. Then they got a person to collect the taxes from the designated people, but they did not provide for the salary of the tax collector. If the tax collector only collected what was demanded, he might starve so, of course, he had to collect more than what the empire and governing bodies wanted. By collecting the money from the people and delivering it on time to the people above him, peace was maintained in the empire. But, if the flow of tax money was interrupted, the full weight of the Roman government could come down on any given province.

To make taxes more complicated, the Roman government was not the only entity collecting money. The temple also taxed the people through the tithe, which was a temple tax. The temple too believed in a trickle up-economy. Governors also taxed the people for local building projects and urban improvements. Lastly, the land owners taxed the farmers on their produce from the land. Today we would call it share cropping, but it was a tax none-the-less. The assessed tax could be as high as 80%.

Each of the taxes was based on the gross amount that the people made. By taking 10% here and 10% there, by the time the poorest people paid for their food and clothing, there was often not enough to go around. To not pay the tax was to be jailed and die, but paying the tax also often meant that starvation and even death were nearby. Land and home would be sold first. Even children, your spouse, and your very person might need to be sold into slavery in order to pay the money needed. In the sense of an hour glass, the tax collector was the one responsible for the sand flowing up instead of down. No wonder he was detested.

It is not enough to the Pharisee to be thankful for not being like those other no-accounts though; he needs to state why he is better than those others: he fasts twice a week and he gives 10% of all that he acquires. This then is his case of being righteous.

Biblically speaking, however, righteousness is not an individual state. Righteousness depends on the life of the neighbor. If the Pharisee lives in comfort, but his neighbor lives in poverty, then Biblically he cannot be righteous because his comfort is at the expense of someone else. If the Pharisee is living in comfort, and his neighbors are suffering and in poverty, then Biblically he is stealing from them; he has broken his relationship with them. The Pharisee has chosen to serve himself and has not trusted God for what he needs; he has taken from others for his own sake and not served God and his neighbor—he has become a thief, a rogue, an adulterer, and, yes, a tax collector.

He may be fasting twice a week, but we all know that only the well-fed can fast. The poor and the starving call it, “We have no food.” When it comes to taxes, the wealthy may give 10% of what they receive, but when you receive nothing, paying taxes is not possible because there is no money. You might call it, “being broke”.

As last week the unjust judge cared nothing for God, so now we see that the Pharisee does not trust in God. He trusts in himself. He thinks that prayer is about elevating himself over others rather than lifting up the people around him.

We compare the Pharisee to the lowly tax collector who is far off and cannot even bring himself to look up to heaven praying. His prayer is that God would be merciful or have compassion, that is, would suffer with him in the midst of his life. Jesus says this one was made righteous. What makes him righteous or justified is that the tax collector asks or begs God to be in relationship with him. As the widow begs for a relationship of equity, so now the tax collector prays for a relationship of understanding and love with God.

Although we too long for this relationship of understanding and love, not only with God, but with one another, there are times in our lives when we run to the place of the Pharisee. How often have I heard, even said, “There, but by the grace of God, go I!” In saying these words, we separate ourselves from the event even while recognizing that we might have been there or done that ourselves, but, thank God, our actions did not result in calamity—we were not caught. “There, but by the grace of God, go I!” does not mean we are somehow better by our actions, but we believe that a better outcome resulted because God favored us more. Now we look more and more like the Pharisee.

Poverty is not that far away for the average American family which is only two paychecks from not being able to pay the bills. In worship we pray, “We offer with joy and thanksgiving what you have first given us--ourselves, our time, and our possessions, signs of your gracious love.” But when we leave worship, we may separate ourselves from the people who can’t pay their bills anymore, saying, “There, but by the grace of God, go I.” We like to think that God has favored us because of our hard work. We think that we are responsible for creating the world around us as if God’s creative work stopped on the sixth day of creation. In so many ways, we, as a society, say “We’ve got ours, the heck with the rest of you—you who can’t find jobs that pay a living wage, you who are starving in war-torn countries; you whose homes have been taken away by cartels and people who only think about their own wealth and power.

We thank God for our own lives of privilege and wonder at the chances that might lead to us living in those conditions of disaster in Haiti and say, “There, but by the grace of God, go I.” How much harder our prayer lives might be if we, with the tax collector, said, “Have mercy on us sinners, Lord, for we have so much and there are so many that have so little. Help us to share the abundance of your creation. Help us lift up the lowly, and let us be humbled in your presence and the needs of all that you have created good.”

How we think of prayer really does determine and shape what we pray. Being in relationship with God and one another, we pray that all may know God’s presence and that all people will have respect, re-spect, that is, be seen again. We pray that we may engage and honor the people that God has given us to welcome in God’s kingdom on earth, anticipating God’s rule as it is in heaven, with daily bread for all and forgiveness of sins. In this state of God’s abundance and forgiveness, we then are able to forgive as we have been forgiven and are saved from the trial that would judge our works alone. Lord. save us from ourselves, and, in your loving arms, deliver us from evil. Indeed, your kingdom, your power to save, and your glorious resurrection are what will last forever.

It is in this relationship of forgiveness that we know relationship with God and one another that continues to sustain us, and so we rejoice in those words of help and hope:

“In the mercy of almighty God, Jesus Christ was given to die for us, and for Christ’s sake, God forgives us all of our sins. Therefore, by Christ’s authority, I declare to you the entire forgiveness of all of your sins; in the relationship of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

There, in the grace of God, we go.

A Vote and a Prayer Luke 18:1-8

It is difficult for me to read this text this week without thinking about the current election process. Don’t jump too far ahead of me here. I admit that as I read the text for the first time last Sunday that I was listening to the presidential debate. I also admit that, when I first read the text, I had just heard the reports of Mr. Trump’s inappropriate and offensive language. But, the more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that this story speaks about our whole electoral process this year and that this story’s illustration of the need to pray always and not to lose heart is more important than ever.

Let’s begin by considering four perspectives of this story and the characters in it. First, in the context of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem where prophets are killed and where we know that he will be crucified. Yet, at the time of Luke reporting Jesus’ words, Jesus has not only died on the cross, he is risen from the dead. So although these words were spoken before the crucifixion, the people who are hearing these words from that time until the present already know the ultimate outcome of the story. This means that they and we always hear the story with the knowledge of the resurrection.

Second, when we hear the title of judge, we are likely to think of robes and big desks, of plaintiffs and defendants, of bailiffs, juries, and reporters everywhere (can anyone say CNN?). But during the time of the Gospel of Luke, a judge was anyone who had the power to decide your future. A judge could be anyone who had the power to withhold the means of living from you.

Third, we all know what a widow is. Some of you may be widows or widowers because you have lost a spouse. But, especially in biblical writings, the widow can be an image of any person, group of people, or even a nation who has no one to speak for her/them asking that they be given what is rightfully theirs.

Within the context of the judge and the widow we are told what injustice or unrighteousness looks like. The judge’s injustice or unrighteousness begins with not fearing God and not respecting people. The judge is above it all and is only concerned with his pleasures and how he looks to the world around him.

The widow feels the bite of the judge’s arrogant self-righteousness and comes to the judge seeking vindication. Indeed, she addresses the case against her adversary again and again. Like a mosquito in the night that continues to whine around your ear evading the impatient and exasperating slap, this widow continues to come praying (begging) for what is rightfully hers. Note that it is not the presence of the widow that is so annoying; it is her continuing prayer for justice that concerns the judge.

Lastly, there is the character of the inner voice which first appeared in ch. 12 in the story of the rich man and the abundant harvest. Later we heard the words of the inner voice in the lazy steward, the prodigal son, the unrighteous manager, and now in the unjust judge.

The character of the inner voice has changed through the stories. In the first, the inner voice is greedy and wants to build bigger barns. In the second, it encourages the servant to abuse his power so others suffer with beatings. The inner voice of the prodigal son convinces him that it is better to ask for mercy than to live outside a loving relationship. The unrighteous manager discovers he can experience welcome in the community around him by relieving the debts of the people when he loses his job.

Now the inner voice instructs the unjust judge to be just even if it is only for appearance’s sake. The widow’s constant praying for justice is making the judge look bad. Politically, she is giving him a black eye.

In each of these stories, the inner voice points us in the direction of what it might mean to live in a realized kingdom of God’s justice even though the characters are not fully changed. Each story speaks of outcomes based on self-interest while the hope is for self-giving for the sake of the world. We will hear from this inner voice one more time before the end of our liturgical year for our own instruction. We will see the result of the inner voice teachings on the cross when a bandit prays to be remembered in Christ’s resurrection world.

Jerusalem, judge, widow, inner voice—let us think about this story in light of what is going on today. Clearly we have candidates who may have some fear of God, but that is questionable at times, and clearly there seems to be little respect for the people. Our candidate judges are much more concerned with trying to sanitize their pasts, explain their miscreant ways, and point fingers at one another claiming that the other is unfit or, could we say, unjust?

Little time is being spent on some of the most pressing concerns of the day. Will we have jobs that pay us enough to live on? Is medical care available to all when they need it? Can we find a way to live with one another without killing each other? Does everything have to be based on winning, or is there a way for us as a nation to recognize God’s image in one another? Can we see, yes see, in a way that recognizes the value of all of God’s people, finding ways of peace, rather than constantly maneuvering for more power? Is there room in our lives to recognize that this world is God’s good creation and that we need to stop polluting and destroying it? Can we perfect the programming of the driverless car so that I can go where I want when I want? (Oops, that last one was my bad.) Is there yet time to find ways of distributing the wealth and abundance of this world in a way that does not create greater chasms between the rich man and the Lazaruses of the world?

The answers to all of these questions will only come through persistent, constant praying. I am convinced that today we are the widow in this story, and justice will only be given if we continue to pray against the powers of injustice. -

Our candidates claim that they want to talk about the issues of the day, yet when the opportunity for discussing their programs comes, each one points to the inadequacies of the other candidate, claiming that the other person’s policies will destroy our economy or make a complete disaster of our world without getting around to what they propose. It is good and worthwhile to know what each of them has done in the past, but to live in the past is to die.

I am much more interested in what they want to do in the future. I would really like to know what their dream for the United States is. Because they seem to be unable to lay out their proposals, I wonder whether these candidates have a sustainable dream that extends beyond November 8.

It is going to be up to us, the electorate, the widows, to actively pray for justice. We must raise our voices now, and keep raising them, in our local governments, in our state legislatures, and in the halls of congress. Created in God’s image, we know what it means to be just. We know what it means to be righteous before the Lord. We know that justice begins with fearing, that is having a passionate reverence for, God and respecting God’s people. We must see each other as equals and recognize the needs of all of God’s people as our own needs. We must acknowledge that we are broken and incomplete without their presence in our lives.

As we pray for justice, we ask for ways to bring clean water to the people of Flint, Michigan; we ask for meaningful employment that pays enough to support a family of coal miners and steel workers in Ohio, Pennsylvania and West Virginia; we ask for fair prices for milk from our cows and the produce from our fields; we ask that those who are without hope in Chicago may find ways of living in peace with one another instead of shooting each other. Praying for justice means that we need to raise our voices in prayer again and again, begging for justice and an end to racism, sexism, able-ism, and classism whenever they appear.

When we call for justice, we aren’t asking just for me, just for you, but for each person in the earth—for refugees who are fleeing from war torn countries like Afghanistan, Syria, Yemen, and Columbia for their lives; for immigrants trying for a better life; for people living with the mess we have made of our air and our waters everywhere.

We need to pray loudly and often without losing heart. We need to remember that God’s justice is done quickly in ways that we do not understand—opening the sea for God’s people to safely pass when fleeing oppressive Egypt, giving laws to create order in the chaotic wilderness-times of our lives, raising up foreign leaders like Cyrus to restore the city of peace (Jerusalem), and making us right with God through the cross and empty tomb.

When the Pharisees asked Jesus when the kingdom of God was coming, he told them that the kingdom of God is not coming, it is here. It is among you. He says that, if justice will be known, we need to do something about it. We must pray, understanding that prayer is not only cries to God for help in times of trouble, but actions that raise people up from the toxic places of open despair and hopeless quiet desperation, that is, the place where they have lost heart. In prayer, we can lift ourselves and those who are trapped in those spiritless places of lost heart into communal lives of ministry, walking together shoulder-to-shoulder and heart-to-heart, trusting in God’s will being done on earth as in heaven.

So how do we begin praying? Prayer begins with listening. Listen to God’s calling, that is heed or fear God. Listen to the people around you, that is respect them and recognize the value of their needs. Then, having listened, we too can speak, implore, and beg. We can join with those who are already speaking and acting in faith, trusting in God’s continued active presence in history.

This year, your prayer may be in the vote you cast on November 8. It can be a statement of trust that God continues to work in history through good leaders and bad. Without losing heart, our prayer this year may be that we won’t have to overwork God’s labor of grace and forgiveness. So I urge you to listen to God’s calling to honor the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor; listen to your heart and the people around you, and then, prayerfully vote for our future and the future welfare of God’s people in a way that will be faithful when the Son of man comes.

The good news is that whether or not the son of man finds faith on earth, we know that he is coming. Let us prepare him room and make straight his way.