BLCM – Sermon Advent 1C

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2009

On Luke 21:25-36

Happy New Year! We are at the threshold of a new church year. Throughout the next four weeks the Church worldwide is waiting and preparing for the birth of Christ. And throughout the next four weeks the Church worldwide is waiting in anticipation of Christ’s coming.

“Stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near!”

This coming of Christ is a reason to celebrate. And Advent is the season to reflect on what the coming of Christ means, is reason to prepare. But we often understand it as the busiest time of year. And instead of reflecting and contemplating the time before Christmas is filled with the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping and Christmas baking, Christmas parties and gift-wrapping. We can’t wait to decorate our houses inside and out with blinking lights and tinsel, with ornaments and nativity scenes. We light candles and put up the Christmas tree. And beginning at the end of October we can hear Christmas carols in elevators and shopping malls, on the radio and on TV. Because we can’t wait for it to be Christmas, because we can’t wait to unwrap the perfect gift for us under the Christmas tree. So, Jesus’ words about the end of time sound so out of place in all this excitement. What a harsh way to welcome us into the Advent season! In fact his words appear rather sobering.

Jesus’ words about the end of time make us wonder what he is up to. He tells his disciples that there will be signs of the future, and he tells them to wait, to be alert, to be on guard, and to pray. Jesus doesn’t give them any concrete timeline, nor dates to wait for, but just a vague understanding that the Messiah will come. In fact, Jesus tells his disciples that the coming of the Messiah is not about the when, but about how they wait.

Waiting has not become any easier in 2,000 years. The Hebrew people have been waiting for the Messiah to come for a looong time. They have been waiting through wars and in exile, through famines and during the rule of foreign oppressors. They have been waiting and hoping for the Messiah to come and free them from Roman tyranny.

And after Jesus, the great hope of many, ascended into heaven on the 50th day after Easter, the early Church eagerly awaited the second coming of Christ, always hoping and believing that Christ would return at any moment. They were hoping for Christ to come back NOW to save them from the ruthless persecution that they were enduring.

And like the Jewish people and the early Church, we begin waiting every Advent. Instead of moving forward, we come back in cycles, to the same stories, the same waiting. Waiting is something that we, like the ancients, have a hard time with. At times we even seem to have forgotten what it is like to wait. Instead we keep ourselves busy and occupied. When we want something we want it NOW. Like Christmas is supposed to happen NOW. Instant gratification has become the trademark of the new millennium. Because waiting is difficult. Waiting is scary. And the longer we have to wait the more we are trying to fill the waiting with busyness, with entertainment, with work… Anything goes as long we don’t have to wait.

And yet, our hustling and bustling, especially at this time of the year does not always accomplish what we were hoping for.

Dazed by wafts of Christmas smells, numbed by a thousand fold “Santa Claus is coming to town”, blinded by flashing lights, saturated with mounds of cookies and gallons of eggnogg, and tied to towers of gifts it might happen that we indeed decorate our houses festively but the door to our heart remains bolted. It might be that we put out the nativity scene but the meaning of the manger remains blocked off.

Advent has turned into an overly busy time, that is often too brightly-coloured, too loud, and that allows us to numb our longing for true hope and peace and joy and love. We smell and taste and hear and see and feel the signs of Advent and yet it might be that we are unable to really perceive them, that we are unable to interpret them, that we are unable to understand them. And we might actually struggle at this time of excitement and anticipation – especially those among us who experienced the loss of a job. Those of us who have received a grave diagnosis. Those of us who are faced with a Christmas without a loved one. And beneath our busyness, our smiles and our upbeat attitude we might actually feel vulnerable and lonely. In fact, if it was for us we might wish that the hubbub was over and we could just forget about Christmas. And our pain and grief and struggle weigh heavily on our shoulders. We are in danger of getting lost in our worries of life. And rather than looking up and standing straight and waiting we leave our head hanging, we seek to forget. And so, while today Jesus tells the disciples, and tells us to wait, it is difficult to see what the waiting is good for, it is hard to know if God is doing anything at all, in the middle of all this waiting.

This uncertainty in the middle of our waiting is what Jesus is talking to the disciples about. Jesus is not trying to scare the pants off of them. Rather he assures his listeners that the healing of the world is at hand, that God is with them in their waiting. And that the waiting is not about the when but the how. “Stay awake, stay alert, and learn to read the signs of what is ahead.” Instead of crumbling and trembling at the hardships of life Jesus encourages his followers to “stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Jesus urges his hearers to look out for the signs of the cycles in life. The fig tree looks very dead in the winter but it also is the first tree in Palestine that starts budding in the following spring. Jesus invites the disciples to join in the waiting of the Advent of the Messiah.

And together with the disciples we are invited, too. Every year we are waiting for Christ to come into the world, waiting with the same stories, the same rituals and songs. Here at Bethel we have been waiting together for over 70 years. And it is exactly this annual time of waiting with these recurring practices of lighting candles and singing the same hymns that helps us to be hopeful. Jesus invites us into this annual season of waiting that grounds and centers us in our daily life so that we, like the disciples, won’t be caught off guard in the days to come. The season of Advent is not only the time to remember and celebrate the Christ who is born into this world every year, but also to anticipate and look toward the time when he will come again to bring about the redemption of the world.

This is what Advent is about. Advent is about God coming to us as we begin again each year to wait for the Messiah. Advent is about God coming to us as we struggle with trying to discern God’s presence in our waiting. God comes to us and finds us. Each week when we light another candle on the Advent wreath, it is not so much a countdown to when God arrives, but an increase in the reminders that God is already here. In our worship, in our prayers, in our song, in scripture, in baptism and in bread wine we are reminded that God is right here among us, and we realize that God is waiting with us. We discover that God goes with us into an uncertain future. God goes with us as we wonder who might be here in 70 more years – worshipping and waiting for the Messiah to come.

God brings us together, binds us together in the waters of Baptism, and God finds us in the waiting. Today we celebrate with Parker and his family his baptism into the family of God. Today Parker has joined us in the waiting for the Messiah. And like the rest of us Parker is reminded that God is here. And as we light a candle each Sunday in Advent we also light a candle for Parker today to remind him that the Messiah is coming.

In Advent, our story begins again, the story of God coming into the world, coming to be here among us. Each year, we faithfully tell the same stories again because of their power to remind us of whose we are and why we wait. We faithfully tell the same stories of God coming and finding us in the middle of our waiting. As we watch and as we pray, God is gathering our community into one. We are joined into one body that goes forward into the future… not always certain of the path, but hopeful and anticipating that God comes and goes with us.

Amen.

BLCM – Sermon Christ the King Sunday

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 2009

John 18:33-37

What is going on here? It is the end of November and today we celebrate Jesus Christ, our king. But instead of celebrating Christ’s victorious kingship we are in the middle of Good Friday. And we are faced with a king who is on his way to the gallows. We a faced with a king who is being tried for blasphemy. We are faced with a king who is about to die the embarrassing and shameful death of crucifixion. A king who is about to die a death that is allotted to thieves and murders and traitors. But haven’t we just heard in the other readings about the glorious coming of the king? Something went wrong here, and it seems like the celebration of the king has turned into a terrible disaster.

Today Pilate seems confused. He doesn’t really know what to do with this Jesus. He had just asked the chief priests and Pharisees to take Jesus and convict him themselves. They had refused in order to remain clean. And now Pilate is stuck with this man, trying to find out what is going on…wondering how this Galilean made it to the Roman headquarters.

After all Jesus is just a wandering preacher, like there are so many. Okay, Jesus attracts great crowds but so have others before him. And Jesus heals many, like other healers do. But now this Jesus stands in front of Pilate and is on trial for blasphemy. The temple caste and scribes are enraged because Jesus’ teachings about God’s love for all, God’s forgiveness and mercy are not what they teach. His teachings and preaching are going entirely against their established order. And that has upset the powers of the day. And with their accusations the temple authorities have riled up the crowds. Now they all want to see blood. And Pilate is supposed to speak the verdict.

But Pilate doesn’t know how to get Jesus to confess to the grave accusations. Whenever the governor asks Jesus a question he doesn’t get a straight answer. Who is this Jesus that causes Pilate so much trouble?

Pilate’s struggles are understandable. We, too, together with the disciples, struggled throughout this fall with the teachings of Jesus.  Repeatedly Jesus talked about what it means to follow him. Repeatedly Jesus told us what his kingship looks like. And we struggled with it.

Because, like the disciples, we are looking for a powerful king. For a glorious, majestic king who cleans up the all the messes of this world and who, most importantly, will make us shine in the end right beside him. And Pilate would have a better reason to convict this man if Jesus had only claimed the Roman throne.

But, here is Jesus… instead of the glorious king we would like to imagine in today’s world we might see a homeless bum, a poor senior, an outcast or a single mom. This unlikely king before Pilate and this unlikely king we might see today is a pathetic king in the eyes of the world. A scary king in the eyes of the powers of this world because we, like Pilate, don’t know what to make of this man. We don’t know what to do with the one who claims to be the Son of God. We are afraid of this man’s radical love that turns our world upside down. This man who refuses violence in any form and yet is so much stronger and powerful than death. We don’t know how to take a king who walks into his death as an innocent lamb instead of fighting back, instead of standing up for himself.

And Pilate has to dig deeper. He is determined to get to the root of this dilemma. After all, his name is on the line here, too. “What have you done?” he asks Jesus. But again the governor doesn’t get a straight answer from the accused. “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here,” Jesus answers.

The kingdom Jesus is talking about is indeed very different from what Pilate has in mind. Jesus is not just after the Roman throne, after Herod’s throne or after the temple caste’s almighty power. Jesus doesn’t rule from a castle either – like he should as a legitimate king. Nor does Jesus rule from government buildings or board rooms of multinational corporations. Christ, our king rules from the cross. And our king lives on the street and sleeps under newspaper. He lives where two or three are gathered. He lives in the slums of this world. He is waiting on death row. And he lives wherever the good news is proclaimed.

That is the king we are celebrating today, the King who turns our world inside out. We are celebrating Jesus Christ, the humble king who kneels in the dust and heals the people. We are celebrating Jesus Christ, the embarrassing king who dines with the poor and marginalized. We are celebrating the radical newness of life that our king Jesus brings into this world by dying a shameful and embarrassing death. We are celebrating Jesus, the upside-down king who rules from the cross. We are celebrating Jesus Christ, the true king of all creation.

And Jesus Christ, the true king continues to challenge our world and its phony, self-centered and destructive power structures. By relentlessly breathing life where there is death and decay and by endlessly creating.

Today another church year comes to an end, and we are moving into the season of Advent. Since Pentecost we have heard the teachings of Jesus. The teachings that challenge us, but that at the same time encourage us to follow the voice of the true King who brings us hope and forgiveness.

Pilate and the temple authorities, the powers of our world today and we ourselves are unable to stop God from bringing life into our world. God has turned the shameful, despicable trial and death that Jesus was faced with into life. God has turned the tree of death on which Jesus hung into a tree of life. And Jesus Christ by conquering death has turned the world upside down. All the powers and the kings and kingdoms of the earth might have their moment in time and then they fade away and become history. Only one king outlives all the nations of history: Christ the king.

But the way Jesus rules is different than we know. Instead of using his power to rule, to control Christ gives up his power in order to save. To save the world and all creation. And Christ’s kingdom is of service, of service to all. And his kingdom is of life and real truth, of life and real truth for all.

Christ our king is the true king, the true king of all creation. With God coming into this world in the person of Jesus and dying and rising from death the world as we know it has ended. And in hope and anticipation we are waiting, waiting for the Messiah.

Amen.

BLCM – Sermon Pentecost 24B

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2009

Mark 13:1-8

Last week Jesus pointed out the great injustice that was done to the marginalized and poor of his time by the scribes and the temple caste in Jerusalem. Today Jesus announces that the temple of this unjust, ruthless system of oppression will come crushing down, and that things as we know them will come to an end. “Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be wars and famines.” This is the beginning of the end.

But for now the disciples marvel at the magnificence of the temple in Jerusalem. Even though it is still under reconstruction the temple is an impressive monument. Huge, perfectly chiseled stones are piled up on the side, ready to be assembled. And what has been built already is breathtaking. For the third time the temple has been rebuilt. And each time it has become bigger, higher, and more majestic. This architectural wonder has become a symbol of supremacy and might that is supposed to last forever. King Herod with this temple shows the world were the true power lays. And the temple caste enforces countless laws and rules to show who is in charge. To determine who is clean and unclean. To determine who is saved. To determined who is loved by God. Because the temple caste and priests know what God wants. In fact they have become like God. And with that the stones of oppression are built high because the priests and scribes determine who is in and who is out.

We all know the high impressive walls of stones of oppression that seem to stand strong and look everlasting. We, too, build structures to show our power and success.
One of the classes a seminary student is required to take is Globalization and Ethics. The practicum for this class is a three-week trip to a developing country. There, students are exposed to the impact of our living standards, wealth and power on the locals. The group that I was in traveled to Madagascar – one of the poorest countries in the world. The majority of the Malagasy population has very little. Few are able to accumulate riches through cooperating with international corporations, through selling out their own people’s livelihood.

We had a chance to see the technologies that national mining companies use to exploit not only the resources of the island but that also destroy Madagascar’s unique environment. Technologies that are forbidden to be used here, in Canada, because they do harm to anyone who is exposed to them. But few people here know about this because the men, women and children in the developing countries don’t have a voice or a choice. Their concerns and hardships are conveniently ignored by us.

We support these structures of exploitation and oppression in order to secure our lives and to ensure that we have what we think we need – at any cost. To make ourselves safe and make ourselves feel like we have enough. And we are not just part of global power structures. In our own lives we keep building on the perfect family. We put together a respectable career. Our body is our sanctuary. Only healthy, youthful people are successful and adequate. In our world money is a sure foundation.

As human beings we build structures that make us feel secure and in control. No matter where we live or who we are. And at first glance our lives show our power and might. But at the root of all of this is our sinful self. We are afraid that someone might be more powerful, important and mighty than we are. We are concerned that someone might have a better life, more money, nicer children. And our fear of not measuring up fuels our desire to be in control, to show our power, to oppress others. And when we want to exercise our greatest power we resort to violence, war, and killing because the most powerful and permanent structure that our world thinks it has is death. We live in the shadow of death’s impenetrable bulwark with its destructive powers.

That is what Jesus is pointing to. With his words Jesus invites us to see the world and the time around us. The problems of his time might have been different from our problems today but in Jesus’ words are surprising parallels: violence and hatred among peoples are part of life as much as they ever were. False messiahs and prophets manipulate people the same way as they did in Jesus’ days. Natural disasters shock and frighten us as much today as they did then. That’s how the world is – if we like that or not. And we could go on and continue to draw a bleak picture. However, that’s not the point! Yes, we need to see the symptoms of our ailing world and our time and within ourselves. But in Jesus’ words is hope for us, too.

Because Jesus promises us today that the stones of the temple will be overturned. It means that God will end the powerful structures of oppression.  God is to bring about the temple that truly lasts, namely the temple of Christ. Christ replaces the temple powers, the priests and scribes will no longer determine who is in or out.

The destiny of this magnificent temple of Jerusalem reminds us that we cannot build our future. But the future of this world lies in God’s hands. The world, all of creation needs a redeemer. And Jesus’ words, that talk about the seemingly everlasting, mighty temple soon coming crushing down, mean hope for us. Jesus’ words of the world being soon turned upside down will come true before long. No longer will greedy and power-hungry priests and scribes be God-like judges. Instead God in Christ has come into our world. God in Christ has come into our world to redeem all creation. Jesus reminds the disciples that the human monument of all-mighty power does not last. The temple was destroyed only 40 years later and was never rebuilt. Just one wall remains standing – until today the famous Wailing Wall of Jerusalem reminds us that nothing – no matter how permanent we think a thing might be – nothing lasts in this world. And no human power lasts either but is easily overthrown by other human powers. With his prediction Jesus reminds the disciples and us that nothing human, nothing from this world is eternal. In the end all that we have truly belongs to God. With his prediction Jesus is showing the disciples and us that the true power is in God. When all things come to an end, all that remains is God.

God in Christ has come into our world and stands in the midst of our temples that we are frantically building on. Jesus stands in the midst of our high walls that we fearfully defend… walls within and around us. Walls that are crumbling and come crushing down – no matter how hard we try to keep them straight. Our families are not perfect. Strife, divorce, addiction and illness easily bring down our carefully planned and built family structures. Any economy turns out to be built on sand and regularly collapses – burying our dreams of job and financial security. And we come to realize that there is NO power in the things we put our trust in, that we build our hopes on. And we come to realize that in this world dearth rules and reigns, no matter how hard we try to escape.

But God’s answer to death is an empty tomb. Death is not the end anymore. Jesus brought down the seemingly impenetrable walls of death. And with conquering death Jesus points to God – the only one who is eternal. God who is the foundation of this world. Whose temple brings light and life and hope. And we are free from having to build with stones of oppression, we are free from judging others.

God continuously works and builds and chisels away and straightens our structures of control and fear and oppression. God turns them into life, and we can take comfort in the promise that God is taking care of all things. Yes, the people in Madagascar are among the poorest peoples – according to our standards. But they are rich. God is their sure foundation. As Michel, a seminary student in Fianarantsua, put it so eloquently: “When you are poor, when you have nothing you can only turn to Jesus. Jesus is our hero.” The people we met are spirit-filled people. God is the one who gives them hope when they have nothing else. They find life in following Jesus – no matter what their circumstances. And they find wealth in their relationships to one another.

God is there when the temples of this world are the highest. And when our careful constructs come crushing down, when all seems lost God is still caring in God’s own way. God loves us – failures and all. And God’s love offers room for all because God is the one who is holding all creation in the end. When our seemingly eternal structures are only piles of rubble God is still there – as the foundation of creation. Building around us the temple of Christ.

Amen.



BLCM – Sermon Pentecost 23B

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 2009

Mark 12:38-44

Today Jesus is teaching at the temple in Jerusalem one last time. The temple, an architectural wonder that had been rebuilt by King Herod. It is bigger and more magnificent than anything people had seen before.

The temple has become a huge religious and commercial center, and a large staff and the maintenance of the buildings require seemingly endless amounts of money. By enforcing strict religious laws and rules the priests and scribes have become powerful and influential. Few rich become richer at the cost of many.

The injustice that is done by the temple cult, by the ruling power of Jesus’ day is what Jesus is pointing out. He openly criticizes the scribes and their fancy outfits. Their demand for honor and special treatment during public outings. Their especially long prayers to demonstrate their holiness. But above all Jesus criticizes the scribes for squeezing ruthlessly the last pennies out of the common people, even the weakest, in order to keep up their status, their power, and their life style. The scribes take their greed out on the vulnerable and the powerless. “They devour widows’ houses”.  And the system works smoothly. For those in power. And those of lesser status suffer. They are oppressed in the name of religion. That is what Jesus points out today.

This story of the poor widow is often used to get us to put more money into the offering plate. We are told that we shouldn’t be like the scribes by giving out of our abundance. But instead we should be like the widow who willingly and joyfully gives all she has. We are told that we are pleasing God when we give all we have. Yet, this is not what Jesus is actually talking about! With not a word is Jesus praising the widows offering. With not a word is Jesus saying that God loves this poor woman more, now that she gave it all. The widow has been told by the religious leaders that giving to the treasury is the only way of keeping to the law. And she has been told that God loves those who keep the law. Not the poor, not the unclean, not the marginalized. The poor widow gives all she has in the hope that God will still remember her – while the temple priests and scribes become richer and more powerful. Jesus uses the poor woman as a prime example of the injustice that is done to the common people. “Look,” he says, “these scribes don’t hesitate to take the poor woman’s last two coins. They take all she has.”

Im a single mom. I live in the basement of a run-down apartment building on 22^nd Street in Saskatoon. The dodgiest area in town. Sadie… my daughter is very sick. She has trouble breathing because all the mold and mildew in our place makes her sick. I have a low-paying job, no benefits. And I can’t afford her meds that she needs to get better. And today my landlord came. He’s breathing down my neck to pay him last month’s rent that I still owe him. But I can’t pay him. I missed a couple days at work when Sadie was too sick to go to school. What am I supposed to do?

Who are the widows in our society today? They might look like inmates, the mentally ill, single moms. And maybe even our farmers… Big, national corporations break into the family farm system. By running huge corporate farms they not only destroy the land, but dictate the prices on the market. Farmers today are worse off than during the depression. Family farms are on the verge of extinction. This is a great injustice that squeezes many people in rural SK out of their existence.

We all are victims of the injustices in this world one way or another. And we all have part in the injustices in this world one way or another. We all are single moms on 22nd street, and we are all landlords demanding rent. We are all farmers loosing our family farm, and we are all part of the big corporations killing the family farm. By living in this part of the world we all use our wealth and power we have to secure our life style, our riches, our influence. And with that we oppress many.

Injustice has many faces. Exercising power and gaining advantages and riches at the expense of others breed injustice. The injustice of oppression squeezes the life out of its victims. Movies, novels, even newscasts show us what injustice looks like, and how we react to it: Injustice is repaid with more injustice, with violence, and the imposing of more power. The heroes take matters in their own hands. The results are war, hunger, violence and death. And if today’s story would be made into a movie in Hollywood Jesus, the super-hero of the story, would kick the scribes’ behinds big time! He would use some super-power, … maybe even violence to bring down the unjust, overpowering, self-serving temple system of his day.

Yet that’s not what Jesus does. Jesus is not the super-hero we expect. Jesus doesn’t come into the world with super powers. Instead Jesus has become one of us. And today Jesus sits at the center of the injustices of his day, and openly points to the wrong that is done to the poor, voiceless widow and all those oppressed.

God stands with the poor, the marginalized, the unclean. And the powers of the world treat the widow and God in the same way. The scribes, the national and international corporations, the landlords are standing by the offering plate to watch and making sure that the widow, that everyone gives accordingly; making sure that the money keeps coming in. Their power rests in shamelessly devouring the widows’ houses. Their power rests in taking all that people have. And they are determined to take God’s life because God is too uncomfortable. God is too outspoken, too challenging and threatening their self-serving dominance. God has to die.

And the widow, with nothing left must walk out of the temple treasury. She gave her two coins as she was supposed to, but where does she go from here? Today she doesn’t know, what tomorrow will look like.
And yet, in a few days from when she walks out of the temple treasury with nothing, Jerusalem will be launched into chaos. Jesus will be betrayed, tried, mocked, beaten and then led to the cross by the powerful.

And Sunday morning the rumors will start. While this widow walks to get water in the morning she might pass Mary and Mary on their way to the tomb. On her way back she might see Jesus’ frantic disciples running all over town, and she might begin to hear the whispers and the stories by lunch time. “He’s alive… the one that the temple authorities tried to put to death. They tried to kill him, but he would not stay dead, He has risen!!!”

And where there was no hope, where there was only certain death waiting, this poor penniless widow might find hope. She might see that there is hope for her. She might see that God is indeed working in the world, and that there is a place for her with Christ.

Today Sadie found a flyer in our mailbox. It’s from the church down the street. They invite people to their service. It says that Jesus invites us all to his table. I even could bring Sadie since they offer child-care. And there will be lunch afterwards. So, I don’t need to worry about a meal for that day.

God is still working in our world. God is still working to bring about change where power is abused. God is at work in organizations like Canadian Lutheran World Relief, food banks, fair trade co-ops, Christmas Hampers, Inner City Ministries, Habitat for Humanity, and so on, whose mandate it is to reach out to the poor, the marginalized and the forgotten. God is at work in communities that open themselves up to invite and greet all people. God is at work here in Medstead in the support we offer to each other, in how we treat one another as neighbours and friends who help and care for each other.  God is on that combine that joins another to finish the harvest. God is in the hands that carry the casserole to a sick neighbour’s front door. God is here, in this place, nourishing us at his table with his body and blood, and binding us together into the ONE body of Christ, the family of God.

Today, Jesus points out injustice in the midst of the temple, and here too in our midst, and Jesus promises that injustice will come to an end. “The death-giving powers of this world will receive the greater condemnation.”  But for God, the great condemnation is not devouring repaid with more devouring. Instead it is life over death. The powers of the world try to devour Jesus, try to take Jesus’ life. But God is the never-ending source of life. God infused life back into the world in the resurrection of Christ. And God is infusing life back into the world in us for we are the works of God in this world! Jesus comes into our lives to move us. The Spirit moves the church, moves us to reach out in love and care, in order to give the world hope that the widows, the single moms, and those on the outside are not forgotten.

Amen.

BLCM – Sermon All Saints Sunday

SUNDAY,  NOVEMBER 1, 2009

John 11:32-44

Live long enough in this world. See enough of its pains and sorrows, and it all begins to close in. Life, being alive, begins to bind us up. Difficulties and hardships tie us down, pull us into ourselves. We find ourselves bound up by circumstances, by events, by situations that are beyond our control. We feel as though we have been bound up and left for dead. On this All Saints day, that feeling of being left for dead is conjured up from deep within us. Grief that has been long buried, resurfaces as we remember loved ones who are now dead.

Today, Lazarus is dead, he has been taken from those who love him…. And it’s because Jesus has come too late. Lazarus’ hands and feet and face have been bound and his body has been laid in tomb. And because Jesus is late, the whole town of Bethany is now in mourning. Lazarus’ sister Mary is bound by grief over the death of her beloved brother. Martha, her sister, is bound by her faint-heartedness that covers her eyes because she, too, is overcome by grief. Even Jesus is affected. He is distressed by the power that death has over the people around him. In their sorrow Mary, Martha and bystanders cannot hear him anymore. They cannot believe him anymore. And in their anguish Jesus’ promise that Lazarus will rise again does not make it through their grief. They have all been bound, and Death has taken hold.

Death is powerful. Death reaches into our lives wherever we turn. And Death has forceful minions that put limits around us and within us, that bind us. Fear, doubt, guilt, and despair add to Death’s tight grip on us. They all drain the life out of us, and we die little deaths every day. Something in us dies when someone hurts us by lying to us, betraying our trust. Something in us dies when we are confronted with the grief of loss. We suffer little deaths in the sorrow of being alone. And each time when a piece of us dies to these things the bonds that pull us into ourselves grow ever tighter.

These daily inner deaths are debilitating. They tie down our hopes, they drown out our joys, and they rob us of our courage to face life. And in these daily struggles we, like Mary and Martha, forget the incredible work that God is doing in our lives. Like Mary and Martha we limit God to what fits our imagination. In theory we, like Martha, believe that Jesus can do anything. And when Jesus asks her if she believed that he could raise Lazarus from the dead, she says “I know he will rise in the resurrection on the last day^*.” But when push comes to shove, when Jesus asks us to trust him, when Jesus asks for the stone of our unbelief to be rolled away – like Martha, we fear more the smell of death than the promises of God! ‘Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead for four days.’ And we cannot remember the hope and the life that Jesus promises us.

The recent movie Gran Torino centers on the life of Walt Kowalski, a jaded, embittered, and resigned war veteran. As a retired auto-worker, Walt fills his days with home repair, beer, and monthly trips to the barber. The people he once called his neighbors have all moved or died and have been replaced by Hmong immigrants from Southeast Asia. Walt openly despises them. And he is basically resentful of pretty much everything and everyone he sees – the shabby eaves, the overgrown lawns and the foreign faces surrounding him. His own children prefer to speak to him as little as possible.

We meet Walt for the first time at the funeral of his beloved wife. The young priest Father Janovich, a recent seminary graduate, had promised Walt’s wife to look out for her husband. Throughout the movie Father Janovich tries to connect with the old man. Walt doesn’t make it easy for the young man. But Father Janovich doesn’t give up on Walt. At one of his visits he says, “You seem to know a lot more about death than you do about living.”

Walt’s world view has been tainted by death for the last 50 years: the killing he had done in Korea, his experiences of watching his friends die, his extreme racism, his penchant for violence, and the severed relationships with his family – all contributes to Walt dying little deaths every day. All these experiences have crippled him, they have bound him up, they have killed him on the inside. The death of his wife has only fastened his bonds tighter. And by now Walt is just waiting out the rest of his life.

When a loved one dies, it is hard to even think straight let alone remember the power of God’s Word to us. When we are bound up in fear and despair, when we are tied down by an overwhelming work-load, a rocky family life or other commitments that start to close in on us it is hard to breathe, let alone to know that the Holy Spirit is with us. When there is not enough money in the bank to make it to the end of the month its hard enough to decide whether to keep the house warm or to eat, let alone to remember that Christ died for us.

Mary and Martha are overcome by grief. Jesus is grief-stricken, too, and he shows great compassion. Jesus weeps with the sisters and promises them again that death is not the end. Then he asks for the stone to be removed from the grave. Jesus calls out to Lazarus by name. Jesus calls Lazarus, who is dead, with a loud voice and commands him to come out of the tomb. Lazarus can do nothing for himself. All he can do is receive the power of God to give him new life. And Jesus does give Lazarus new life! Jesus also peels Mary out of the layers of her grief. And Jesus rolls away the stone covering Martha’s heart.

This story is the story of Good Friday. Very soon Jesus is going to be convicted and sentenced to death on the cross. Very soon Jesus himself will be wrapped in shrouds and his face will be covered with a cloth. But the fetters of death won’t stop Jesus. Jesus himself is going to rise to new life and death no longer will have the last word.

These people that Jesus loved, Martha, Mary, Lazarus have experience first-hand the power of God’s Word. Today’s story makes us realize that the power of God’s Word working in the world is not dependent on whether we can hold our lives together long enough to remember it. It is in these states of being unable to think, unable to breathe, unable to remember that God’s Word calls us by name and cuts through our shackles and unbinds us.

For Walt Kowalski the voice of God that calls him out of his grave comes in the person of Sue, a teenage girl who lives next door with her family. She reaches out to Walt with an unconditional acceptance that ignores his racist comments, that loves him despite his grumpiness, and that invites him into a world that he thought he would never encounter. She eventually softens his heart, unbinds him, and unties his dying hands and feet and face. Regretting his lack of relationship with his own sons, Walt’s unbound heart is touched by her love, and he finds a new family in the most unlikely of places.

And God calls us into the most unlikely of places also. God calls us with a loud voice out of the waters of Baptism into the Body of Christ with his own body and blood. We have died in these waters of life, and God calls us out – each of us by name. Baptism does not happen to us, but baptized is something we are. We are washed. Washed and bathed into the new life that Jesus promises. Our God is a God of life. And this God of life constantly unbinds us from fear, despair and death. This God of life constantly calls us back to life. As Jesus made his way to unbind Lazarus, the risen Christ calls us out of our tombs into light and life – each day anew.

Today, as we celebrate All Saints day, Jesus calls all, dead or alive, with a loud voice “Come out!” Come out of our tombs. And Jesus unwraps all those layers of fear, doubt, guilt, and despair, and we are free to go into the world redeemed, reclaimed, and rejoicing. Jesus frees us to witness to our awesome God. Jesus unbinds us and we are free to go into the world to witness to his unbinding power that makes us alive!

Amen.

BLCM – Sermon Reformation Day

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 25, 2009 B

John 8:31-36

Lipstick that makes thinning lips appear youthful and young. A certain electronic device promises the freedom to become whatever we want to. Driving particular car brands suggest independence and autonomy. Political parties promise the moon if we only give them our voice.

All throughout the history of humankind, throughout our own lives we have set our hearts on many things, many thoughts and many people. We chase after those things and movements and ideologies that all promise more freedom, more knowledge and insight, more riches. Only to find dependence where we have expected freedom. Only to become so enmeshed that we lose our way out of these captivities and attachments and obligations. And what we thought to be the truth turns out to be illusive or a pack of lies. Too much lipstick makes one look old. Electronic devices pile up, and collect dust in the closet. Driving expensive cars only leads to long term debt. Political parties, regardless of stripe always fail to meet promises. No matter what we chase after, no matter how grand the promise, it always ends up falling short.

We all have fallen short. We are finite creatures: We are born. We live a certain amount of time. And then we die. And throughout our lifetime we are desperately trying to save ourselves from our limitedness, and especially from death. But all this effort spent on chasing the next promise of freedom, the next ideology, the next product that will change out lives, only ends with us falling short. And as Paul mentions to us today, “‘No human being will be justified in God’s sight’ by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin.” And our greatest falling short is death. This is part of our human condition. It is nothing new.

Looking back we see that in Jesus’ day and before the early church got on its feet the Pharisees and temple priests followed the Law meticulously. Because that made them worthy before God. And they made sure that the faithful also knew that they should follow the commandments in order to be worthy. Only those who followed all the rules and regulations would be pleasing to God’s eyes. Only those who kept the law would be loved by God. But this meant that many were left on the outside. They were left out because they didn’t have the means to fulfill all the requirements that the Law demanded. And they fell through the ruts. They were ostracized from their communities, and they were left out of salvation. These marginalized people Jesus ministered to. The sick, the lame, the deaf, the blind, the oppressed, the unclean. These were the ones that Jesus preached about, and these were the ones on whom Jesus showed often his great compassion in miracles and healings.

About 1500 years later, in the Middle Ages, Martin Luther and the other great reformers of his time lived in a world where death was imminent due to war, revolts, and devastating bouts of the plague. Fear and depression dictated the lives of the people. The old order of powerful popes, emperors and nobility was cracking apart. The church was full of corruption in light of the collapse of the old order. The amount of masses for the dead increased considerably as an offer for a safe journey from this life to the next. But the church also proved to be a smart entrepreneur: along with the increase in masses priests threatened with purgatory, and preached from the pulpit that people had to work hard in order to escape the threat of eternal misery. People were made to believe that they could earn God’s love by buying forgiveness of sins. But no matter what they did, it was never good enough. And the church greatly benefitted from these revenues of selling salvation in the form of indulgences – a piece of paper that was issued by the church.

And again, as in the time of Paul, many people were left out of salvation because they could not afford to purchase their salvation. Martin Luther in his earlier years tried to follow all the regulations and laws of the church painstakingly in order to be pleasing to God. But he was also very aware of his sins, and he was tormented by his constant falling short despite his great effort to become righteous. He could not imagine how any human being could be good enough to make a righteous and all-powerful God love them.

And today? Today is not much different. To be left out of salvation as many were in Paul’s day, or to be too poor to pay for salvation as in Martin Luther’s day, might not be our problem. But today the place where we fall just as short as the people of any other time is in our fear, our fear of death. We are so afraid of dying that we don’t even use the words anymore. Instead we say ‘she passed away’, or ‘he moved on’, or ‘we lost him’.

We are afraid to face our own mortality and instead try to find ways to prolong life. And we believe that we can stretch life just a bit longer by thinking positively, by being happy enough or by having enough faith. And we see health, happiness and wealth, success and long life as signs of God’s blessing. But we are so busy saving ourselves by making sure that we are in charge that we push God right out of the picture. We push God away. Who needs God if we can work matters out on our own? We try to be God in God’s place. And we have become slaves to our fear, fear that makes us work hard to avoid death at all costs.

Luther could not accept a God who could be paid off, or a church that was God’s bank.  Instead he was frantically searching for a merciful God. And he found an answer in the writings of the apostle Paul, who had ordered the assassination of Christians. Who nevertheless had experienced the life-changing mercy of God on the road to Damascus, and who became an avid preacher of God’s amazing grace. In Paul’s letter to the Romans Luther found the answer: “For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.”

What Luther rediscovered is this radical gift of God’s grace. God’s grace – the undeserved forgiveness of all our sins. God’s grace – the unbelievable gift that we all seem to forget so easily. God’s grace – that is so hard for us to believe, and that is yet so sweet when we get a glimpse of it, when it sinks in. At the heart of our faith is Jesus, Jesus who chose to die on the cross. At the core of our faith is an empty tomb. And with the cross, with the empty tomb comes God’s promise to forgive and to free us.

And Luther saw God’s radical grace hidden in plain sight on the cross. Hidden in the death AND the resurrection of Jesus Christ. For Luther and for us the empty cross became a symbol of good news. A symbol of God’s triumph over death, a symbol of God’s gracious love for all of creation.

God is the true Reformer of this world. God works in this world from the beginning of time and through the ages to create. God comes into this world in order to redeem creation, to free us. Out of God’s grace comes our freedom. Our freedom to stake the empty cross right in the center of our worship and to proclaim that death has no more power. And out of God’s grace comes our freedom to love and serve our neighbor without worrying if we do enough to save ourselves.

Paul found God’s saving love for those who were excluded from salvation. Luther found freedom for those who could not pay for God’s love. And to us God is saying that no matter the lipstick we wear, no matter the technology we use, no matter the car we drive, no matter the party we vote for… God is saying to us that we do not have to save ourselves. God is saying that life is not about being positive at all cost, or being happy or having enough faith. But God proclaims to us that no matter how short we fall, that God’s hands are big enough to catch us all, that God’s love is more than enough for us all.

As we celebrate the Reformation today, and as we look back to Paul and Luther, as we look back on where we as Lutherans have come from, we recognize that Reformation Sunday is not really about being Lutheran, or even celebrating Martin Luther. But Reformation Sunday is about celebrating the Gospel. Reformation Sunday is about celebrating the radical grace of God, the true Reformer. And in some sense, each day is Reformation celebration, a celebration of a God who is there to catch all of us where we fall short.

Amen.

BLCM – Sermon Pentecost 20B

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2009

Mark 10:35-45

It’s human nature to want to know where we stand, to know we have a place just for us. We all NEED a place in life. And naturally that place should be a good place. A seat of honour. A place in the sun. A secure and respected place. Because we all need a certain amount of appreciation and acceptance in life. And a little greatness despite our deficits and warts wouldn’t be bad either. Securing position, power and control is something that we instill in our kids from a very young age. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” This question for many of us, becomes the defining factor of our lives, we grow up looking to find a place for ourselves.

And so there is nothing wrong about the request of James and John. Because they, too, are looking for their place in life.

Jesus doesn’t fend off the request for the good seats. Rather the opposite: throughout his life and ministry Jesus prepared and assigned places. He gathered close to himself those that otherwise didn’t have one because they were avoided and shunned. Jesus prepared a place for those he healed so that they could join their communities again.

So, we shouldn’t be so indignant about James and John who want to sit beside Jesus when he really kicks off his reign, when the kingdom of God comes about. There shouldn’t really be anything for us to criticize the two brothers about. They want to be where power is executed rather than suffered. After all they are not just asking for a place in the sun, but in the Christ sun. They ask to be there where light banishes the darkness of falsities and doubts. They ask to be there where the warmth of God’s love finally overcomes the coldness of even their own hearts, where illness, war, misery and affliction can’t reach any longer but where tears will be dried. Looking at all this we can’t blame James and John for their request.

And yet, something is wrong with their demand. James and John are blunt. They are honest and are not trying to hide their ambitions. But their request is selfish. And on top of it all to our chagrin and indignity they are ahead of the game. They got to Jesus before any of us. Nowadays people openly talk about what they want. Plainly expressing wants is a sign of self-confidence. But in church circles such a bold request brought before Jesus just like that is still seen as somewhat embarrassing.

But Jesus doesn’t decline the two brother’s request. He takes it up together with the embarrassment, with the boldness that clings to it. Even more: Jesus also takes up ours and the other disciples’ resentment, suspicion, and jealousy by asking: “Do you actually know what you’re asking for? Are you really drawn to the one who must empty the full and bitter cup of suffering? Are you really drawn to the one who will submit helplessly into the power of his opponents and who won’t call on heavenly hosts for protection or enforcement of his will? Are you really drawn to the one who will tremble and agonize before his baptism into death?”

Jesus asks the disciples if they are prepared to drink the cup that he will drink, but then turns James and John’s request back on them. He tells them that they are not ready for what it means to sit at his right and left, and in fact, those places have been prepared for others already. And they are not the thrones that James and John, that we expect, they are the opposite… at Jesus’ right and left are crosses.

And Jesus makes it clear that whoever wants to have part in Jesus’ glory can’t have a position of power to their advantage. Those at the top can’t hold down those below them any longer. No longer are there only a few vocal and manipulative leaders that everyone else has to follow. Instead Jesus talks about humility and service for the common good. About love for our neighbor… the way, the service that Jesus himself demonstrates during his life. Jesus talks about servanthood that leads him to suffering and death.

These are good ideals, and we have heard about them for over 2,000 years now. However, they appear as foreign to us today as they did to the disciples then. We live in a society where everyone is determined to forge their own destiny. Where no-one wants to see all the skeletons in the closet that our own desire for control leaves behind. It seems as if the rift between Christian ethics and values of servanthood on the one hand and the fight for social prestige, money and influence on the other hand is insurmountable. And who nowadays feels like it – or has the stature to endure the suffering and adversities that true service in life entails?

Now, when we talk about serving, about humility we usually mean something emotional, a feeling to which we force ourselves: to be more honest, more respectable, more orderly than we actually are. This beating on ourselves is supposedly serving to choke our ambitions and to belittle ourselves – trusting that we might grow into greatness through this behaviour.

But the way Jesus talks about humility is different. Jesus is not talking about an emotion or a feeling. Rather humility as Jesus sees it is an approach to life where the individual is not at the center but the community.
And then Jesus speaks in an unexpected way about the place that he has prepared for us. He doesn’t just talk about this place but promises it to us, assigns it to us. And the highest price was paid for us: Jesus gave his life as a ransom for many. Jesus died on the cross to offer us a place not of power but a life of freedom in servanthood. And this place is prepared, secured for us.

With thankful awe we realize: with his death Jesus freed us from sin and death, a bondage that actually should bind us eternally. Jesus freed us from the weight to justify ourselves. Jesus freed us from the restraint to prove our worth. And Jesus accepts us, holds us, loves us with an unimaginably deep, powerful, transforming, renewing love. And this place in Christ is already ours. Now and forever.

And Jesus models for us what it means to be a servant. Jesus rules from the position of a servant. To truly serve means to serve life. Only death wants everything for itself. Life, bestowed and redeemed – life wants to give and serve.

To be the greatest means giving, taking care, protecting and not exploiting or overpowering. To be the king means to serve from the bottom up and not from the top down.

To sit at the left and the right means to build bridges where those in power have built high walls to set themselves apart.

Jesus opens our ears to hear his call to the cross, his call to life. Jesus opens our eyes and we see the world through his eyes. We see secret pains, unspoken longings, hidden fears and quiet suffering. And Jesus has prepared a place for us. He continuously assigns us this place where we are served and from which we are growing into servants, from which we are opened to serve, from which we live a full life of freedom in servanthood.

Amen.

BLCM – Sermon Pentecost 19B

OCTOBER 11, 2009

Matthew 6:25-33

Don’t worry. Beeeeee happy. The birds in the sky and the lilies in the field are. Because they experience God’s abundant care. And are we not so much more in the eyes of God than animals and plants? So, don’t worry, you of little faith…

This is the life style Jesus expects from us.

And at first glance it sounds plausible. It sounds reasonable and liberating. But already at second glance we may find these expectations naïve and unrealistic.

Because we all know that “Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.”

Worries are part of our human nature. Worries are the result of being able to see into the future. Worries are the disguise for trying to control a situation… to control our life by needing things to happen in very specific ways. In fact, we often have been raised to worry. Early on, teenagers are told: “you’d better start worrying about your future“. And people who don’t worry enough are often seen as irresponsible, childish, or aimless. Most people believe that if they didn’t worry, it would mean they don’t really care. In our culture, worry is accepted as a substitute for taking action. People who do nothing but worry continually about their problems can console themselves by saying “Well, at least I’m doing something. I am worrying about my problems.”

Another trap that worrying might bring about is the belief that happiness must be “earned” by enduring unpleasantness through hard work, pain, and suffering. And at times it seems that we can never endure enough unpleasantness to truly deserve happiness.

But there are reasonable worries. Single mothers with school-aged children come to mind, or families with chronically ill, or disabled members.  The farmer who is unable to pay his huge bills at the end of a bad harvest season struggles with what will happen next year. These families, their relatives and friends rightly ask: what does the future have in store for us?

Or we think of the homeless in our cities, the hungry near and far, and the increasing number of the unemployed. Their worries about their future are understandable. Will they have something to eat tomorrow? To drink? Clothes to wear and affordable housing? Or will they lose everything?

Then there are unreasonable worries like the worry that I might get a terrible disease if I use a public bathroom. Or the worry that I left the stove on every time I leave the house. Unreasonable worries are based upon exaggerated concerns of future hurt or harm. This kind of worrying is not useful. It handicaps and diminishes us. When we are stuck in the ruts of worrying it prevents us from thinking clearly. And once acquired, the habit of worrying seems hard to stop.

Don’t worry. Beeeeeeeeee happy. After all this talk about worries Jesus’ advice sounds too simplistic. However, we would miss Jesus’ point entirely if we would understand his appeal not to worry as a call to not look into the future, to not plan ahead, and to just twiddle our thumbs. Jesus’ words are not an invitation to laziness or carelessness. It’s also not naïve optimism that Jesus proclaims. After all he knows that every day has its burdens, worries and pains.

But there are worries that result from lack of faith. Worries that stem from the suspicion that God has retired and is not longer interested in what’s going on with us. In that case we have lost trust. Trust in ourselves to be able to tackle life’s demands. We have lost trust in the people around us. And we feel unworthy. We have lost trust in God and we feel that God has lost trust in us. This negative self-talk drives us into turning in on ourselves even more. Those are the worries Jesus wants us to let go of. And he is calling out to us:

You, mother or grandmother:
You see the tensions in your family. You suffer from the fights that are going on. Many problems squeeze your heart. Entrust God with your worries. That doesn’t solve any problems but they become bearable because God carries them with you. Know that God holds your worries in his care.

You man with great responsibilities, you woman of great influence:
Why do you work so unrestingly? Why are you so serious when it comes to money? Why are you so defensive when your success is challenged? You no longer really count on God’s power and help. But know that God holds your worries in his care.

You, man, woman, child who is struggling with a chronic illness, who doesn’t know how much longer you have to live:
Take every day out of God’s hand and enjoy the little joys that life brings. And cherish the loving care that God provides for you through family, friends, nurses, and doctors. God has not forgotten you and never will. Know that God holds your worries in his care.

You 50-year old unemployed:

Your chance to find a new job decreases every year. Don’t give up hope. Entrust God with your worries. God is close to you and knows the way. Know that God holds your worries in his care.

You, pastors and leaders in the church:
Why do you worry that your congregation is shrinking? Can’t you see this as a chance to lean on God rather than financial security or reasonable head counts? You work as if God needs you to uphold all that he cares about in this world, but know that it is God who holds your worries in his care.

These worries that separate us from God, that tie us down and even paralyze us, and the worries that blind us to God’s care, these are the worries Jesus wants us to be aware of. And Jesus says to us “Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you.” The kingdom of God is not in some other world, but shot through the broken world in which we live. Everywhere God grows fruit abundantly – fruit for us to harvest. Not just the fruit from the field but the harvest of God’s generous crops happens in offices and factories, in schools, in art and in the sciences. Harvest happens in relationships between people, in approaching each other, in sharing with one another. God keeps everything and everyone in his care. And because of God’s gracious and lavish care for all creation we give thanks today.

Jesus encourages us: Don’t agonize over what the next day will bring. It is enough when you look after that tomorrow.
His words don’t wipe away our worries but their weight, and their significance changes. Our worries about tomorrow don’t throw us into resignation or activism any longer. We don’t have to have it all perfectly together. We don’t have to control everything. We don’t have to be God in God’s place. Because we have a God who looks after things, after us. Who reigns through suffering to joy, through death to life. Wherever God takes over in our lives our paralysis loosens. God opens us towards him and we see God’s work in the world. Jesus talks about his Father’s work in pictures: See, how God feeds the birds in the sky. And see how God clothes the lilies in the field. God cares for each blade of grass! So, how much more does God care about your life.

We don’t know what tomorrow brings. But God knows. And God joins us in our attempts to tackle each day. Even if we feel at times to be the most unworthy. God cares.

“Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you.” Because God’s generosity and zest for life to which God leads us and the whole world is beautiful, abundant and extravagant – so beautiful and abundant and extravagant like the lilies or any other flower in it’s glory. God’s generosity and zest for new life opens us to receive some of the ease and weightlessness of a soaring bird. God’s generosity and zest for new life empowers us to approach those who live in the shadows of life, to go up to those who need us.

And God’s generosity and zest for new life can turn our worries and anxieties into excitement. Excitement and curiosity about what God has still in store for us… our families… the church and the whole world.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

BLCM – Sermon Pentecost 14B

SEPTEMBER 6, 2009

Mark 7:34-37

In the fairy tales of 1001 nights Aladdin is a young man, poor and street savvy, a street urchin. He often gets himself into trouble because he is curious about the world around him, and he explores and sometimes ends up in dangerous situations.

Jasmine is the beautiful, young daughter of the sultan and lives a very sheltered life. She barely leaves the palace and when she does she is heavily guarded. One day she decides to sneak out of the palace to immerge herself in the hustle and bustle of the market place. And sure enough – she runs into Aladdin.

In the course of the story Aladdin gets his hands on a magic lamp and meets the Genie that resides in the lamp. They become friends and the Genie fulfills Aladdin’s three wishes that come with owning the lamp. One of Aladdin’s wishes is to become a prince so that he can get to Jasmine.

One night he flies to the palace on a magic carpet and can convince the princess to come along with him on a magic ride through the night by singing to her.

(SING!!!)   I can show you the world

Shining, shimmering, splendid

Tell me princess, now when did you last

Let your heart decide?

I can open your eyes,

Take you wonder by wonder

Over sideways and under

On a magic carpet ride.

A whole new world,

A new fantastic point of view -

No one to tell us no

or where to go

Or say we’re only dreaming

The thief Aladdin shows the princess Jasmine the world – his world that offers endless possibilities and adventures. And Jasmine is mesmerized and enchanted by the beautiful city underneath them. She hadn’t known, not even dreamt of such wonders.

A whole new world

A dazzling place i never knew.

But now from way up here

It’s crystal clear

That now I’m in a whole new world

With you.

The unlikely match Aladdin, on his magic carpet, had opened the eyes of the sheltered Jasmine, who had lived in an ivory tower so far. He had opened her eyes to see the richness and beauty of the world.

Today Mark shows us an amazing world, too. He tells a story about being opened to new possibilities and new chances. New life and new adventures. And actually today we get a 2 for 1 deal. Two stories – one theme. Two stories about being opened up.

And the first one to be opened up is Jesus. Because the Jesus in the gospel of Mark was not open to minister to the Gentiles before the woman comes to him.

When the desperate Syrophenician woman throws herself at Jesus’ feet he is dismissive and treats her rudely. ‘Let the children be fed first,’ he snaps at her, ‘for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ He calls the woman a dog! I mean, yes, in Jesus’ times this woman would be the scum of the earth. Not only is she a filthy, unclean Gentile! But she is also just a woman. We don’t hear about a husband and can assume that she has to beg in order to survive. And her writhing daughter is likely the means to make ends meet. So, who does she think she is by throwing herself at Jesus’ feet and begging for her daughter to be healed without being asked to speak? Jesus’ disgust is uncharacteristic in this situation. Usually it is reserved for biting retorts to Pharisees or thick-headed disciples. This response doesn’t sit well with the picture we have of Jesus, God Incarnate.

And the woman? The woman’s response is remarkable. She doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer from Jesus. She is stuck in the ruts of life, dead to the world, and wants out. And either she is used to being called names or she understands that Jesus is the only one who can cure her daughter from her seizures. So, when Jesus treats her badly by calling her a dog she doesn’t give up. ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’ That’s pretty bold. She is polite and calls Jesus ‘Sir’ but again she addresses Jesus directly after he has dismissed her.

And Jesus opens up to her. This woman is not just a Gentile. She is not just a woman. And she is not just a beggar. This woman is another human being. A suffering human being who is asking Jesus for help, yearning for wholeness, for love and respect, for life. In this woman is diligence, perseverance and faithfulness, faithfulness that seems to touch Jesus. It has opened him up to see her needs. Up until this now in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus has only ministered to the Jews, but this woman, a gentile challenges the confines of Jesus’ ministry, challenges him to open them wider. And he heals her little girl. And from this moment on Jesus opens up his ministry to the Gentiles.

This incident has taken place in the privacy of a house in Tyre. After he healed the sick child Jesus returns to the Decapolis. Here he is immediately surrounded by people again, and they bring to him a deaf man with a speech impediment. They beg on the man’s behalf for his restoration to health. Like the woman this man is nameless. He is defined by his impairments. His name could be deafness.

Jesus takes him aside – no rude comment this time, no question asked – he takes the man away from the crowd and heals him. Jesus makes him hear and speak. “Ephphathah” Jesus says to the man. Be opened.

We often live sheltered, even closed in lives that are controlled and secured by our ignorance, our fears and our worries. Like Jesus, we too receive requests from others to see things differently, to open up. And sometimes change is scary or aggravating or annoying or all of the above – like learning a new skill, or having to change to a different machine because the old one is no longer available, or learning to live with the debilitating realities of an illness. Our children also have a way of opening us up to new ways of looking at life – sometimes no matter if we like it or not.

At other times we can’t wait, like Jasmine or the Syrophenician woman, to push the fences within and around us because at times we feel stuck in the ruts, too, like Jasmine or the woman. We put ourselves out there trying to open others up.

And looking at our situation here: Jesus has opened you up to receive me into your community. He has opened me up to hear your call. We, you and I, have the opportunity to open up to each other for the next year, to learn from each other, to be there for each other, to share our lives together and see the world anew through each other’s eyes…not like Aladdin and Jasmine flying on their magic carpet but through the eyes of Jesus.

And Jesus doesn’t take us on a magic carpet ride showing us the world from above and at a distance, a fairy tale world – shining, shimmering, splendid and with a safe distance from the real world, the pains, the suffering.

No, Jesus takes us with him to the cross – right into the midst of life. Through his dying and rising from sin and death he opens us up and shows us the world – the world that he loves so much.

Aladdin and Jasmine open up to each other because they are in love. And like God opens up to the woman, God opens himself to us, and God opens us up to one another, too, pouring out grace abundantly because God is madly in love with us. And this is not a fairy tale.

Here, in this place God opens us up. All the things that define us: our jobs, our roles in life, our level of income, our possessions we can leave behind because God opens us to an incarnate way of living: God engages us as human beings. And thus empowers us to step out of our ruts.

When I go to the grocery store is the cashier just a hand that takes my money or a fellow human being with dreams and ambitions? God opens us up to see the world fu   ll of other people instead of categories, status, or roles.

We are no longer stuck in the ruts. We are no longer nameless and defined by our impairments or by our role, our place in life. We are no longer dead to life. Jesus opens us up to live in the world. Jesus opens our eyes and we see the suffering in the world and the needs of our neighbour. Jesus opens our ears to the cries of the world. Jesus opens our hearts and fills us with his love and compassion. At the foot of the cross Jesus opens us up to love those who are different, and to turn to those in need. Gathering at the foot of the cross and seeing the world through the eyes of Jesus opens us up to a life that is rich and breath-taking beyond our wildest dreams and expectations.

Ephphatha! Be opened!

Amen.