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The Birth of Love
. . . A Time to Heal
Language
Intent Focus
A Sermon for 26 June 2016
A reading from the gospel of Luke 9:51-62. Listen for God’s word to us.
“When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village. As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” But Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.””
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!
Here we in the season after Pentecost – getting ready to settle into the long stretch of Ordinary Time before coming full-circle to return to the start of the church year with Advent sometime around Thanksgiving. And today the lectionary has turned us to the gospel of Luke and to an epistle texts too that teaches us about being church. Galatians is a wonderful example of the kind of living together that gives witness to the already-present kingdom of God: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22-23). The beautiful fruits of spirits attuned to the very Spirit of God. . . . And then we get our gospel text for today. Not so much beautiful fruits, but a knock-ya-off-your feet kinda text.
A turning takes place at this point of the gospel, at least the way it’s recorded in Luke. Jesus now intently has set his face on a journey to Jerusalem. He’s on the move – out of his home region of Galilee for the last time. He is ready to head to Jerusalem to take on all that awaits there. No sooner does he resolutely set off, than he encounters a couple of characters we might know something about. Like: have you ever met an overly eager beaver? “I will follow you wherever you go,” earnestly announces this enthusiast. Always ready to go. Always moved by the impassioned plea. The clip flashes across the television about children starving half way around the world and eager beaver’s all set – bags of canned goods in hand. Ready to pitch in, this eager beaver enthusiast suddenly learns: those children are on the other side of the earth. It’s gonna take a boat, or one expensive plane-ride to get where those children are who need his helping hands. . . . “Foxes have holes,” says Jesus, “and the birds of the air have nests. Me? I don’t know the comforts of a cozy home. Nonetheless, follow me and we’ll see where the journey leads – no matter the inconveniences that come.”
A few steps later another chap is met. “Follow me!” Jesus joyfully beckons. Obviously he cannot see that this son has his hands full. Dad’s been pretty sick lately. It’s been quite a burden. You know how that can be. Aging parents can be a handful. Obligations to fulfill. Oh not that we mind. Dad always was there when we were young. Doing what had to be done – frequently for our own benefit. Sticking with him now, tending through illness even onto death – well, certainly Jesus can understand that. . . . We’re not told in Luke whether this son’s father already has passed or not. According to the custom of the day, the man meeting Jesus may be concerned with one of two ancient commandments of Israel (Green, The Gospel of Luke, 1997, pp. 407-8). It’s possible that his dad’s still alive which, according to law, would bind the son to proper care of him until the end occurs. It’s not just that they didn’t have nursing homes. Rather, such farmed-out care was against Jewish law. The son was responsible to tend his aging parent. Jesus either expects the man to turn from that Jewish law – or possible another. If the father had died already, the law of their ancestors required that the son dutifully care from the time of death until as long as a year after. Burial was a two-step process for Jesus’ people. At the time of death, the body was wrapped to be laid in a tomb – tears were shed as the mourning began. But it wasn’t business as usual one mere week after the funeral – a widow with picked over casseroles the sole sign that something had happened here. A year after the initial burial, someone had to finish the job. Returning to the tomb, the body now decayed, a bone box was taken. A faithful son gathered the remains to be laid to final rest with other deceased ancestors (Green, The Gospel of Luke, 1997, pp. 407-8). Whatever point this son stood within that period of care before and beyond the grave, Jesus has one charge. “Let the dead bury their own dead. But as for you: go. Proclaim the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60).
I don’t know about you, but I’m not so sure I wanna hear Jesus’ summons to a third. “I’ll follow you Lord. I will. But just give me a moment while I go on back to kiss the loved ones goodbye.” Now we gotta admit: on the journey to Jerusalem, this one might be a pretty decent prospect. This one’s got a lot of commitment. Ready to wave farewell to the folks at home, this person truly is set to sacrifice. Unfortunately, Jesus replies: “No looking back.” As one version of scripture I’ve heard puts it: “If you turn around once your hand is on the plow, we’ll end up with a crooked row of corn.” Leave it – whatever it is back there – that person, or thing, or possession, which keeps us captive in the past. We’re to let it go. With it we’re unfit for God’s kingdom.
These are some rough words rolling off the lips of our Lord. Its summer and it’s been so hot so you’d think he could cut us a little slack. . . . He can’t though. Remember: the gospel of Luke explained at the beginning of our reading for today. Thus far in the gospel, Jesus has been busy teaching, healing, taking in dinner parties, choosing and sending apostles, praying; feeding thousands, restoring life to dead ones, stilling storms – you know all that just another ole’day at the office kinda stuff. Certainly these were moments filled with great passion. But it’s not quite the same intensity as we now get here. “When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51). Serious focus begins at this point in Jesus’ life. Popularity may be swelling. Perhaps the phone is ringing off the hook with potential preaching engagements. No matter. He’s got no time for distractions now. It’s like with a champion athlete – absolutely intent on reaching the goal. Un-distractible focus is required. . . . As the days draw near for Jesus to be taken up, he sets his face. Soon the streets of Jerusalem will swarm with Passover pilgrims. The lamb must be slain. God’s deliverance re-enacted. . . . Intently focused – no time, nor concern for the fire of judgement to be rained down on Samaritans who won’t receive – Jesus knows his purpose: the road of suffering, rejection, death. He’s intent on it not because he necessarily wants to undergo such pain. Just because he knows such self-giving is the way – the only way that leads to true Life.
Would-be followers must have their Lord’s same self-giving focus. That’s his message to the church in this text today. According to Jesus, even the best of all priorities like physical need, fulfilled duty, family love. Right doctrine, pure standards, beloved traditions. We cannot be distracted – tossed to and fro; this way and that like a wave of the sea driven wherever by the wind (James 1:6). We cannot be distracted from Christ’s primary focus of giving of self for the benefit of others. In word and in deed, that’s how we ensure the kingdom is proclaimed! . . . When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face. Now, now is the time for his followers to do likewise.
In the name of the Life-giving Father, the Life-redeeming Son, and the Life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.
© Copyright JMN – 2016 (All rights reserved.)
. . . A Time to Heal
A Sermon for 19 June 2015 – 5th Sunday after Pentecost
A reading from the gospel of Luke 8:26-39. Listen for God’s word to us.
“Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me” — for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!
Amid all the disturbing news this week – not only the deaths that have occurred in this congregation, but also the tragic events in our nation and world; did you catch the clip about Phoebe? Phoebe is a dog from Fort Worth, Texas. In the past 18 months, Phoebe has logged 236 visitation hours at eight different hospitals in the Fort Worth area. Though it looks simple, her owner attests Phoebe received extensive training for a year and a half before being set loose in local hospitals. Phoebe is a golden retriever, known to be an extra sensitive dog bread. But she’s not entirely unique. It’s long been understood that dogs have incredible healing powers. Let one curl up near you for a little bit. As it settles in, possibly nudging your hand with its wet nose to ensure you will stroke its beautiful coat or pat its head right above those milky chocolate eyes, it’s likely your heart rate immediately will drop. Before you know it, any swirling anxieties within will calm. With such a beautiful creature relaxing at your side, most every human being will find their own cares melting away.
It’s the idea behind Phoebe and a dozen or so other dogs like her who are known across the country as the Comfort Dogs. A news clip shows Phoebe walking the halls of a hospital. Whether she chooses a patient to visit based on her intuitive senses, or if the nurses direct Phoebe and her owner to a particular room; before you know it the patient in the bed is smiling, laughing, and enjoying the consoling warmth of Phoebe who is surrounding the patient with her curative powers. Patient after patient attests: “You just forget about what’s wrong. It’s like your whole attention turns to them.” . . . Phoebe and others like her are trained by Lutheran Church Charities. The news clip went on to report that Phoebe and her owner were boarding a plane early the next morning to spend the week as a comfort in hospitals and counseling centers in Orlando, Florida. They’re heading to the very places that have been flooded with broken-bodied and broken-hearted people since last Sunday’s horrific mass shooting. The clip reported that Phoebe and the other Comfort Dogs have been present everywhere from Sandy Hook, to Boston after the marathon bombing, and now to Orlando. What they do is simple really, though so incredibly profound. In the midst of such intense, inexplicable pain; they show up. They calmly greet a grieving survivor. They sit as a loving presence at the person’s side for whatever pats and hugs the dogs may receive. What they offer is a calming, comforting presence in times where words will never be enough. Somehow they allow people who haven’t been able to breathe since the crisis, finally to exhale. It is as if the night terrors evaporate. The bottled-up emotions can flow. The pain – at least momentarily – disappears. Where humans have done the worst to one another, Comfort Dogs provide an oasis in the midst of heart wrenching despair. (www.wfaa.com/mb.life/phoebe-the-comfort-dog-helping-orlando-victims-243718287 and WFAA-TV, Tuesday 14 June 2016). Comfort Dogs come alongside us to help us heal.
Though I love dogs and can see how they would offer uniquely restorative powers, I find it kinda of disheartening that its dogs that end up in such places of mass destruction instead of us people. In the gospel of Luke especially, we learn of a Lord who went wherever he was needed to heal. In the story before us for today; it’s out of his homeland, Galilee. Beyond the set boundaries of his people. Off to the neighboring country of the Gerasenes he goes. There a man, hardly man-like anymore, has been left to live in the tombs. He’s out of his mind from all that has possessed him. Demons, the text reads. And we might understand such malevolent forces that can overtake us yet today. Commentators often translate ancient ideas of demonic powers as the kinds of maladies that leave us chronically ill today. Maybe the man has something akin to paranoid schizophrenia. Or could it be more like the turbulent inner turmoil in which many of us end up from living a lifetime wracked by incessant worry? Or self-hatred. Or debilitating fear. Maybe the demons that drive us today to live less human-like and more as shade-like dwellers in the land of the dead are arrogance or ignorance or greed. Whatever it is that takes us over so that we, in the language of the PCUSA’s “A Brief Statement of Faith,” “violate the image of God in others and ourselves, accept lies as truth, exploit neighbor and nature, and threaten death to the planet entrusted to our care” (PCUSA Book of Confessions, 2014, p. 303, line 35-38). . . . To one who has experienced this, our Lord goes.
It’s a great comfort to know that Jesus shows up in our greatest hour of need. But it’s even more important for us to realize that he went about such ministry so that we now will. It’s all over the gospels and the rest of the New Testament too. One of Jesus’ primary ministries was that of healing. And he passed that ministry right along to his first disciples. Luke chapter nine reads: “Then Jesus called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal . . . They departed,” verse six continues, “and went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere” (Luke 9:1-2, 6). When they return a short time later, they fall all over each other telling Jesus about all they had done. Later in the New Testament, after Christ’s resurrection, we can read about the people they healed. Everywhere they went, they found a way to restore the bodies, minds, and spirits of those in need. To cure the dis-eases people experienced in the living of their days. That’s healing – making something whole once again. It’s a ministry entrusted to us too. As we look around the world today, we might just see it’s the primary ministry God is calling us to now – in the families and neighborhoods and nation in which we live. Even to those beyond our comfort zones – those outside the boundaries we tend to set.
I know, our rational minds might right away kick in, if not to question how Jesus and his friends so long ago actually healed all sorts of people, then perhaps to wonder how in the world we’re supposed to do the same kind of healing today. I wouldn’t dare advocate something other than the miracles we can experience due to modern medicine. Like, I’m not about to go home and stop taking the pills my doctor has prescribed me to take as I continue to heal after shoulder repair surgery. I’m still going to do the necessary exercises and follow the surgeon’s advice. And I suggest you all listen to your doctors as well. . . . But I just can’t get Phoebe out of my mind. The hugs she received in Orlando this week. The people whose physical, emotional, and spiritual pain was eased as the Comfort Dogs descended upon their hospital rooms and showed up at the trauma counseling center. Remember their simple, but o so profound gift? Presence. Calm. The comfort of just sitting with another when no words ever will be enough. We can do that. Every last one of us can get out of ourselves long enough to just be with another who feels like the whole world is falling apart. We can listen to the silence or the sobs that might arise. We can wait as an oasis until one who hasn’t been able to breathe since the crisis, finally finds themself able to exhale. We can help to heal, can’t we? Offering a powerful, curative peace wherever it is needed. After all, if Phoebe and her furry friends can do it, certainly we can too. Following the lead of our Lord as he goes outside his typical territory to heal the one who meets him there. . . . As Christ’s hands and feet in the world today – a world we know to be in such deep, deep need – it’s our turn to take up our Lord’s ministry of healing. May God’s Spirit guide us as we go to the side of whoever needs it!
In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.
© Copyright JMN – 2016 (All rights reserved.)
“Words in our Heads & Hearts”
A Sermon for 12 June 2016
A reading from the gospel of Luke 7:36-8:3. Listen for God’s word to us.
“One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” Jesus spoke up and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he replied, “speak.” “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” And Jesus said to him, “You have judged rightly.” Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.””
“Soon afterwards he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him, as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!
If you ever did, or maybe still do, read cartoons: remember how there would be those bubble clouds over the heads of figures so that we might know what’s going on inside of them? Often such bubble clouds are used as the true punch of the cartoon – the funniest part for cartoons that are trying to make us laugh. Or the true satire for cartoons that are trying to make a statement. I wish we had such bubble clouds over the heads of the three main characters of this story presented in the gospel of Luke. Then we could get a peek into the true insides of each of them – and maybe even discover the truth inside the bubble clouds of our own lives. If in fact the gospel writer had used such bubble clouds, I wonder if they would read something like this.
First, the Pharisee. . . . It’s so good to be hosting this dinner. I can’t believe he actually said yes to being here when I asked him. We’ve had a few run ins already, this Jesus and my fellow Pharisees. It seems he’s going all over the countryside doing the kind of things righteous ones of God never would! Like that day he told the paralyzed man his sins were forgiven. “Stand up and walk!” We all know God alone is the one to forgive sins. Who does he think he is?! (Luke 5:17-26). . . . He’s got a reputation for hanging with known sinners. He even welcomes tax collectors who clearly violate God’s ways among us as puppets of our oppressors. Robbing from our own to ensure Rome takes what it wants. . . . He says he’s committed to those who are sick – whatever that means. Is he talking about the sinners who won’t live God’s righteous ways? How can that be? (Luke 5:31-32). . . . The buzz is he just might be our long-awaited Messiah. But I don’t know. He seems to trample all over every Sabbath. First harvesting grain for a meal – a clear violation of God’s command to stop. Rest. Rely upon the LORD (Luke 6:1-5). . . . Then he healed that man with the withered hand. And told us doing good for another is more important than keeping to ancient Sabbath commands. Something in my heart is stirred when he speaks, but then my mind gets all confused trying to reconcile it all with how we’ve always known it to be. (Luke 6:6-11) . . . He claims to be the longed-for Son of Man; yet how can this be? We all know “the righteousness of God means that God cannot endure sinners, and a follower of God gains salvation by upholding the purity code, with its separation of the elect from the sinners of the world” (Feasting on the Word, Yr. C, Vol. 3, Gregory Anderson Love, p. 142). That’s what we read in the Torah in Leviticus (5:2-3, 6:18, 27, 7:20, 22:4-9). . . . I’m glad he’s here, though, because I want to understand. But he’s such a challenge to everything we know. I’m just not sure where he’s getting all his ideas. What he says isn’t what I read in our Holy Scripts. He can’t be right. That cannot be God’s way. . . . And if it is, everything I’ve built my faith upon – all the ways I’ve practiced. What I’ve always known of God? . . . If he’s right, that God’s favor is just for us – not dependent upon our holiness codes, then . . . then my whole world must be turned upside down. I just don’t know.
Meanwhile, inside the bubble cloud of character number two, I wonder if her thoughts went something like this. . . . I know I don’t belong here. I wasn’t invited. I would never be welcome. . . . Don’t belong – ha! That’s such an under-statement. I don’t belong anywhere. Anywhere near this house of a righteous Pharisee. Anywhere near this kind of table of such prominent men. Anywhere near this one – if he really is the one they say he is, the Messiah of our God. . . . Who I am doesn’t even matter. I’m an unknown. A nobody. A no-name. A woman pushed to the margins in our city. . . . I know the sneers – the whispers behind my back. What all the people think of me: some sort of dirty degenerate who doesn’t deserve one thing. . . . I know what they believe when they look at me because I believe them too. I’ve spent my life listening to what they say. Despised for how I live. Dejected for who I am. The shame is overwhelming. I’d do anything to escape this pain. I hate myself as much as I know the LORD our God hates me too. . . . I only wish . . . I wonder actually: could his words be true? I’ve heard this Jesus welcomes ones like me. They say at his birth his mother sang in great joy over him. That he would be the salvation of us all (Luke 1:46-55). The mercy of God – maybe even for ones as despicably sinful as me. . . . I don’t get it, though. How can it be what he claims, that the Spirit of the LORD is upon him to show God’s unmerited favor to the lowest of the low in this world (Luke 4:18-19)? None of our holy men ever cohort with the likes of me – unless in secret they’re paying for my presence. Yet this Jesus has been known to eat at table with us – not to shame us further with lectures of our unworthiness. But to laugh and heal and give us hope. . . . He says he’s here for ones just like us (Luke 5:31-32). And . . . and, I’m starting to believe him. . . . I so want to believe him. . . . I’ve heard he’s said: “Blessed are ones like you. Ones hated, excluded, reviled, defamed” (Luke 6:20-22). . . . He’s healed those who aren’t even of our own people and I can’t believe the man of God would touch one who is dead – having compassion on his widowed mother. Restoring her to life too with the protection of her revived only son. . . . If he’s indeed the One of God; if who he is really is who is our God; then I can’t wait a moment longer. Despite the cost – even if I risk further humiliation, or worse, if I barge right in – I must fall in worship at his feet. I must show him the hope I hope he’ll give. The love growing in me for a God who would accept one such as me!
And then, of course, the bubble cloud of character number three: Jesus. . . . Love, love, love, love. I’m all about love, love, love, love. Because God is all about love, love, love, love. . . . When are these people ever going to get that? Sinner and saint alike. . . . I’ve no time for those who think they’re all right all on their own. Because, after all, they think they have no need of me. Of God. Of us. . . . They walk around bopping others on the head with some intricate set of ways they think everyone has to follow. They tie themselves up in it all. In their moments of great honesty, they realize they’re doing the same to themselves – piling up requirements on themselves and others that they think will earn God’s love. Most of the time they don’t even see it and I’m certain they have no idea how to stop. Nonsense! . . . We are the LORD God Almighty, Maker and Sustainer of the Universe! Nothing these little mortals do can make us love them! Because we already do! It’s who we are – eternally. From before it all began until way after it all here ends. We just love. Because we are love. . . . It breaks my heart – our heart – to see them all so locked in their little boxes. Judging themselves. Judging others. Wondering if they do this will that make it right. Thinking if they do that – hide this about themselves, deny that – maybe then they’ll be good enough for our favor. Nonsense! . . . We made them – just as they are. We love them – everyone of them – just as they are. We want them to see themselves and each other – all others – as we see. Precious. Treasured. Valuable to us – every one – because we’re the most just Creators. Parents who have no favorites. Parents who delight in their cherished children each and every day. . . . It grieves me – and God, and the Holy Spirit too – it grieves us deeply when they can’t see it. It breaks our heart when they violate it in themselves and in others too. . . . Why can’t they just accept our gift? Why can’t they fall down in gratitude? Why can’t they just live in joy over the kind of freedom we want to give them all? . . . When – when will they see the beauty of our unearned love for every one? . . . And when, o when, will they enact our merciful love toward themselves and all others?
Likely, those would be the bubble clouds of three main characters of this story as told in the gospel of Luke. Three people with three distinct patterns of thought and three different ways of being because of it. . . . We might just live with the same bubble clouds over us that reflect the content of our own heads and hearts. . . . In the end, may the sentiments of our bubble clouds transform into that of character number three’s. . . . Love, love, love, love. In great thanksgiving, in word and in deed, everyday; may we enact God’s gracious favor to ourselves, to each other, and to all the world forever.
In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.
© Copyright JMN – 2016 (All rights reserved.)
Who
A Sermon for 29 May 2016
A reading from the gospel of Luke 7:1-10. Listen for God’s word to us.
“After Jesus had finished all his sayings in the hearing of the people, he entered Capernaum. A centurion there had a slave whom he valued highly, and who was ill and close to death. When he heard about Jesus, he sent some Jewish elders to him, asking him to come and heal his slave. When they came to Jesus, they appealed to him earnestly, saying, “He is worthy of having you do this for him, for he loves our people, and it is he who built our synagogue for us.” And Jesus went with them, but when he was not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to say to him, “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed. For I also am a man set under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, “Go,’ and he goes, and to another, “Come,’ and he comes, and to my slave, “Do this,’ and the slave does it.” When Jesus heard this he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd that followed him, he said, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.” When those who had been sent returned to the house, they found the slave in good health.”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!
Have you heard the story of the little boy and a shop owner? Award winning author and blogger Chiao Kee Lee writes it and it goes like this: “A store owner was tacking a sign above his door that read “Puppies For Sale.” Signs like that have a way of attracting small children and sure enough, a little boy appeared by the store owner’s sign. “How much are you going to sell the puppies for?” he asked. The store owner replied, “Anywhere from $30-$50.” The little boy reached in his pocket and pulled out some change. “I have $2.37,” he said. “May I please look at them?” The store owner smiled and whistled, and out of the kennel came Lady, who ran down the aisle of the store followed by five teeny, tiny balls of fur. One puppy was lagging considerably behind. Immediately the little boy singled out the lagging, limping puppy and said, “What’s wrong with that little dog?” The store owner explained that the veterinarian had examined the little puppy and had discovered it didn’t have a hip socket. It would always limp. It would always be lame. The little boy became excited. “That is the little puppy that I want to buy,” he definitively stated. The store owner said, “No, you don’t want to buy that little dog. If you really want him, I’ll just give him to you.’” The story goes that at this point, “The little boy got quite upset. He looked into the store owner’s eyes, pointing his finger, and said, “I don’t want you to give him to me. That dog is worth every bit as much as all the other dogs and I’ll pay full price. In fact, I’ll give you $2.37 now, and 50 cents a month until I have him paid for.” The store owner countered, “You really don’t want to buy this little dog. He is never going to be able to run and jump and play with you like the other puppies.” To this, the little boy reached down and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a badly twisted, crippled left leg supported by a big metal brace. He looked up at the store owner and softly replied, “Well, I don’t run so good myself, and the little puppy will need someone who understands!”
The author goes on to write: “The part that really got my eyes filled up with tears was when the boy got upset and said, “That dog is worth every bit as much as all the other dogs.” It goes straight to the heart of what we, as human beings, have . . . worthiness. In the little boy’s eyes, just because the little puppy was without a hip socket doesn’t mean he is less worthy compared to the others. As human beings, we are the same,” writes the story’s author. “Just because we are not perfect doesn’t mean we are not worthy. We are created exactly the way we are supposed to be. We are perfect in our own imperfections. Worthiness is merely a perception defined only by ourselves. Like that puppy,” says the author, “I am worthy and so are you” (by Chiao Kee Lee on http://thedirty30sclub.com/blog/2011/10/the-boy-and-the-puppy/).
Why is worthiness something we’re so quick to define for ourselves? Let alone for others? Why is it that we human beings so quickly come to our conclusions about who is worthy and who is not? . . . Who deserves our time, our money, our affections, and who does not? A world in need surrounds us daily. Consider our neighbors whose families are coming apart at the seams from the stresses and strains of life in this post-modern world. Or what of our beloved family members, either near or far, who going through health crises? On this weekend especially we remember all who have given their lives to keep peace in this world. The sacrifices they and their families make for the benefit of all. And that’s just to name a few of the people of all ages, races, and creeds in this world who are in dire need each day. . . . Which of them are worthy of our time, attention, and money?
Jesus is up against the very same question every day of his life. Here he is, in this story, which the gospel of Luke alone records. Jesus just has been among his disciples and great crowds saying to them things like: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours in the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. . . . And love your enemies, do good to those who hate you. . . . If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you (Luke 6:20-21, 27, 32, 37-38a). These are the words of his infamous Sermon on the Plain as the gospel of Luke tells it – not on the Mount as is recorded in the gospel of Matthew. . . . No sooner does he finish speaking, than Jesus is going to have an opportunity to put into action the sentiment of his very own words.
According to Luke 7, Jesus enters Capernaum. In his day, this wealthy city was known as the crossroads of the nations. Capernaum was over on the northern coast of the Sea of Galilee and one of the last stops in Israel on the way to Lebanon to the north and Syria to the east. Living in Capernaum when Jesus arrived that day is one we can only assume is a pretty well-to-do Roman centurion. It would seem this man is of rank for he speaks from the experience of commanding other men. “I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes,” says the centurion. “And to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes, and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and the slave does it” (Luke 7:8). Which, it would appear, is part of his problem. According to the text, the centurion has a highly valued slave who no longer can fulfill his orders. He’s sick – near death, in fact; and this has the centurion so upset, it’s as if he’s pulling in favors to save him. . . . Now, I realize the word alone leaves a bad taste in many of our mouths because we’re most familiar with 18th and 19th Century slavery in America. And while the institution of slavery always is denigrating of human rights, it’s presumed slavery of Jesus’ day was nothing like the chattel slavery of America’s past. While the man was the property of the centurion, commentators believe he was treated with dignity. Some even note affection or at least the admiration of the centurion for his slave. After all, for his slave, such a prominent Roman is willing to bother his friends, the Jewish leaders, and even this one called Jesus he’s heard about. Supposedly the centurion is a God-fearer. A non-Jewish believer who is seeking to live by the moral ethic of Judaism. He’s ensured a synagogue was built in Capernaum – so that the Jews of the village had a proper place to worship the LORD their God. The floor of that very synagogue has been found under the remains of the Second Century Capernaum synagogue. And it’s an amazing spot on which to stand as you realize Jesus lived many of the days of his ministry in Capernaum a stone’s throw away at Peter’s house and often worshipped and preached right there in that synagogue. The Jewish elders of Capernaum explain to Jesus the gratitude due to the centurion for his generous devotion to God and the community of Capernaum. “He is worthy of having you do this for him,” they say, “for the centurion loves our people, and it is he who built our synagogue for us” (Luke 7:4-5).
Whether Jesus agrees with the conclusion that the prominent God-fearing centurion is worthy, or whether Jesus is blind to such worldly distinctions and knows he needs to go help a sick slave few others might deem worthy; Jesus shows that both the slave at the bottom of society and the non-Jewish centurion are worthy of his attention – not because of anything they’ve done. But because of who Jesus is. . . . He said it at the start of his ministry, according to the gospel of Luke – words reminiscent of his pregnant mother’s magnificent song: “The Spirit of the LORD is upon me,” Jesus proclaimed as he was beginning to live out his baptismal call. “Because God has anointed me to bring good news to the poor . . . sent me to proclaim 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” (Luke 4:18-19). . . . In other words, those in the most dire need are worthy of his attention. Those in the most serious of situations are the very ones he was sent to serve. The Spirit of the LORD our God lives among us to seek out the lost. . . . Jesus spent his whole life giving his time for, paying attention to, and having affection for the very ones the rest of the world quickly would conclude are not worthy.
What about us? As his body alive here and now, who do we deem worthy of our attention? To which ones shall we give our time? Who shall we use our money to help? . . . Once we realize that all are worthy in the eyes of our God, the questions kinda become obsolete. . . . Any in dire need deserve the attention of the body of Christ, the church; for, as we see with the centurion and the slave, all are worthy of our Lord’s. . . . We might take a lesson from Jesus as to where to begin. As those advocating for the centurion’s slave crossed the path of Jesus; likewise, all in need who cross our paths are worthy of our attention. But if that way of living ready for constant response is too much for us, maybe we can take a lesson from that little boy. Remember the one wanting the lame puppy? He wanted that one exactly because of their common need. He knew he understood the little puppy’s struggle because he’d lived through it himself. That kind of solidarity with another in need can be an incredibly motivating force. The wounds we have lived through, give us understanding for the wounds with which another struggles right now. Listening to the experience of our lives and honestly responding out of the pain our hearts have felt, opens us to the kind of empathy another needs. In this way, we come to know our true vocation – the real reason we are here in the world. The way we, like Jesus, live out our baptismal calls as our particular gifts, abilities, and history are used for the glory of God. . . . In great thanksgiving, let us ever be ready to respond!
In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.
© Copyright JMN – 2016 (All rights reserved.)
Relationship
A Sermon for 22 May 2016 – Trinity Sunday
A reading from the wisdom of the Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31 (NRSV). Listen for God’s word to us.
“Does not wisdom call, and does not understanding raise her voice? On the heights, beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand; beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals she cries out: “To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live. The Lord created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of long ago. Ages ago I was set up, at the first, before the beginning of the earth. When there were no depths I was brought forth, when there were no springs abounding with water. Before the mountains had been shaped, before the hills, I was brought forth –when he had not yet made earth and fields, or the world’s first bits of soil. When he established the heavens, I was there, when he drew a circle on the face of the deep, when he made firm the skies above, when he established the fountains of the deep, when he assigned to the sea its limit, so that the waters might not transgress his command, when he marked out the foundations of the earth, then I was beside him, like a master worker; and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always, rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the human race.”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!
It’s Trinity Sunday. The day every year when the church tries to explain the inexplicable. We’re ambitious like that! . . . Trinity: lots of people like to think of it as the Father who creates, the Son who redeems, and the Spirit who sustains. The God who is beyond us, the God who lived among us as one of us, and the God who lives in all. One God, in three persons. If you’ve studied up on all this ever, then you likely already know that in ancient acting, a few actors would play various personas throughout a drama. That’s where the three persons words for Trinity comes from. Our One God, who is known to us in three personas – three distinct characters in the drama of this thing called life. . . . As ancient creedal language puts it: the Father who begets the Son; and the Holy Spirit who proceeds from the Father, who with them is worshipped and glorified! . . . I remember protons, neutrons, and electrons from high school science, don’t you? We can understand that all living things are not solitary. Even before the explorations of modern science, anyone could look at the world and see things that were one, but three. Take a bird for instance. It has a beak, wings, and tail feathers. Three different parts; but it’s all one bird. And, in fact, without all three parts, it wouldn’t really be a bird. . . . God is kinda like that. Three distinct parts: Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer; YHWH the almighty One, Jesus Christ the embodied Word, and the Holy Spirit forevermore. God is all these. All these are God – three, but One: Trinity.
It’s a mystery. And I think a great children’s book gives us insight. It’s called: God is Like a Mother Hen and Much, Much More (by Carolyn Stahl Bohler). I wish I could show you the pictures, but it’s kinda a small book and I didn’t think you’d all be willing to scrunch up here together on the floor, so you’ll just have to hear the words today. “God is like a Mother Hen,” the book begins as the opposite page has a picture of a momma chicken with her chicks. Gently gathering them under her wings the page reads: “who protects her little chicks.” Turning the page we see: “God is like a Caring Daddy, who listens really well. God is like a Teacher, who smiles and says, ‘Try again’” – cuz the lil chic at the chalk board wrote four as the answer for one plus two. God’s like that. We’re all learners in this journey of life; everyone makes mistakes. “Try again,” smiles our Teacher God. As the book continues we learn that: “God is like a Best Friend, who plays and shares with you. God is like a Mommy, who kisses all your hurts. God is like the Air, right there, but you can’t see it.” The little chic on the drawing is skipping in the sunshine of the great outdoors saying: “The air keeps us alive!” The next page reads: “God is like a Child, who loves to have surprises.” Then “God is like You. Sometimes crying, sometimes laughing. God’s Love is like a Teddy Bear’s, ready for snuggling at night.” Then the book states: “Can YOU think of what else God is like?” The caption is: “Fill in using your imagination.” . . . “God is like a Mother Hen, a Caring Daddy, a Smiling Teacher, a Best Friend, a Mommy kissing hurts, the Air you can’t see, a Child loving surprises; You, crying or laughing; a Teddy Bear’s Love, blank” where you fill in what you named God with your imagination, “and much, much more!” God is like a Mother Hen and so very much more! . . . Solid rock, scripture attests. Good Shepherd. Forgiving Judge. Intimate Presence. The Way of Peace. And so very much, much more. All of these together; yet none of these in full. Known to us and Unknown to us all at the same time. The Triune God is so very much, much more. All the different metaphors give us a great way to experience – not to mention speak to others about this One-in-Three that we love.
In Proverbs we get a different kind of peek at our amazing God. That part of God which is wisdom. “On the heights, beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand; beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals” – in other words: everywhere! “She cries out: ‘To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live’” (Prov. 8:2-3). . . . In the Hebrew language, wisdom is associated with the feminine. The Spirit of God that is a part with God at the very beginning. . . . In the Greek, wisdom gets linked with the Word, Logos, masculine and a foreshadow of the Word embodied in the male figure of Jesus of Nazareth. Proverbs links wisdom much more with what we might understand as God’s Spirit. The force with God in creation. She declares in joy that “when God established the heavens, I was there, when God drew a circle on the face of the deep, when God made firm the skies above, when God established the fountains of the deep, when God assigned to the sea its limit, so that the waters might not transgress God’s command, when God marked out the foundations of the earth, then I was beside God, like a master worker; and I was daily God’s delight, rejoicing before God always, rejoicing in God’s inhabited world and delighting in the human race” (Prov. 8:27-31).
What a beautiful tribute to God! Logically, we know God cannot just be One: nothing living is entirely solitary. If any of this magnificent creation ever was going to be, God has to be more than just one part. The creative force in synergy with itself causing something to come to be. It’s why in the first creation story of Genesis 1, God speaks thus: “’Let us make (humankind) in our image, according to our likeness” (Gen. 1:26). Even then, we declare God is an us – One but more than one. Creating a whole world to be one – no single solitary thing – but beautiful in the distinctness of each. . . . Isn’t it a wonderful image of the Spirit of God creating while the wisdom of God is celebrating it all? . . . Maybe you grew up with the triangle view of God. One at the top point, typically what was referred to as God the Father, or God the Creator. The Son and Spirit, not quiet as important, were at the points down below. For centuries, it was a popular way for the Church of the Western world to visualize God. But tucked back away in the Eastern Church was a different kind of image. One that’s slowly making it’s way into the West, which I think is a really good thing as it seems a bit more biblical. You might have heard me say it before, and I first ran across this great truth in Shirley Guthrie’s book Christian Doctrine, which some of you have been studying all year. It’s the perichoresis of God. In this image of Trinity, God is like three distinct circles – equal is shape and size. (Kinda like the image on the front cover of the bulletin.) An interconnected one with all three. There’s really not one that predominates another. Rather this image of Trinity connotes the mutual dance of God. Love itself. Three intertwined dancers twirling about with each other in flawless delight. It gives us a better picture of the One God who is involved in every aspect of the God who is creating and redeeming and sustaining. For in truth, we can’t have one function without the other and still have God as we know God.
And so in mutual delight, we know the Almighty Creator . . . whose final word always is Life. Who makes covenant with a people to be a light to all the nations. Who speaks through the prophets to call us back to faithfulness. Who never-ever will let us go; even when it’s what we really do deserve. . . . We love God the Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Who’s life, death, and resurrection sets us free from all that would bind. Sets us free for Life here and now and forevermore. Who shows us what it looks like to live as God. Who teaches. Who heals. Who feeds. Who celebrates every aspect of human living and welcomes the entire eclectic array – men, women, and children. Young, old and everyone in between. Not just those like himself of Jewish descent: but those of all lands, every tongue, all economic situations. We love God the Son who is our Way, our Truth, and our very Life. . . . And we celebrate God the Holy Spirit. Who powerfully comes among us. Who is our courage and strength. Who lives in every little finger and toe of our bodies. And who lives beyond us in all things living – sometimes known as the very breath of God enlivening all creation. The greening, viriditas force that is alive in all. Celebrating it all as does the Spirit of God, according to Proverbs. The Spirit of the Risen Christ, who guides us into all Truth that we might live in like manner. Who revives us when we are weary and gives to us that great zest for life. . . . Our God, the great Trinity; One yet three, and so very, very much more!
Whether we get it up here (in our brains) or not, it’s the One in whose name we all were baptized – the one in whose image we all were made. No single solitary thing, so that we know we too are not one entirely on our own – whether we want to be or not. Made in the image of the God who is in relationship in God’s very self, we are connected to everything else that lives: in relationship with it all, to be in mutual delight. One with all creation, even as is our God. . . . At the end of the day, whether we understand the mystery or not; our call is to give God praise. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer! The God who is beyond us, who lived among us, and who lives in all. To the Mysterious, Holy Trinity, we give praise forevermore!
In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.
© Copyright JMN – 2016 (All rights reserved.)
Language
A Sermon for 15 May 2016 – Pentecost Sunday
A reading from Acts of the Apostles 2:1-21. On this Pentecost Sunday, perhaps you’ll find these words very familiar. Listen anew for God’s word to us.
“When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.” But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: “In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’”
This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!
So there’s this sit-com with the plot line about a young woman who had been held captive in an underground shelter in Indiana by some crazy self-proclaimed prophet who captured these four teens and told them for like fifteen years that the end of the world had happened and they are the only things left. Then one day, they’re rescued. The teens now are full-grown women and one of them decides she’s moving to New York City to finally begin living. The thing is: she’s been secluded underground for the past several years. And though she’s nearly thirty, she still has the mannerisms, clothes preferences, and language from her days as an eighth grader. Her new New York City housemate tries to help her get a clue about life today. Like: she has no idea what a selfie is – because in fact, she hasn’t ever heard of, let alone had a cell phone. She’s read only one book over and over again for the past fifteen years so any life lessons she’s come to know are through that one pre-teen story. And worst of all, she still uses expressions that were popular in her junior high prior to her captivity in the underground shelter by the crazy self-proclaimed prophet of the end of the world. Like, there was a time and place when it was so cool to say things like “Groovy!” – or so I’ve been told. But not in New York City in the year 2016! Her housemate keeps a notebook entitled: “Things People No Longer Say.” Every time she blurts out such an outdated expression, it gets recorded in the notebook. As if teaching someone about language is that easy.
Language really is a funny thing. I mean, you can tell a lot about a person by the language they use. I’m not talking about dialect or accent – though those certainly place us as well. But just the particular words we use and how we use them. . . . Remember just a few years ago? It was so confusing to hear the younger generation say things like: “That’s sick!” Because when I was a kid, we really meant it was sick – like gross. Disgusting. Something you’d want nothing to do with. Not amazing, awesome, and incredible as the kids were using it. . . . Language can be really confusing. It’s part of what defines a group. A part of a group’s culture. Just like the rituals, traditions, celebrations, and songs that mean something to a particular group of people. Certain language resonates with some because it signifies something those people value. Something a group tacitly has come to agree represents something about them. Language matters significantly.
Which is part of what makes the readings for Pentecost Sunday so incredibly fascinating. This year we hear of the day of Pentecost coming against the backdrop of that great Genesis story of the tower of Babel. A lot of really bad exegesis has been done on both of these texts over the years so that somehow lots of people came to believe that God punished the people for pride over the tower of Babel by confusing their language and dispersing them all across the land. Then, thank the Lord Jesus, at this first Christian Pentecost, God finally changed the course and re-united the people with the Holy Spirit that allowed everyone to once again understand one another – to reverse Babel and allow everyone to finally speak the same language. The only problem with these interpretations of both of these texts is that they’re not at all what the texts record! Of Genesis 11, one commentator writes: “The goal of the building project was to keep the community in one place, lest they be scattered over the surface of all the earth. Hence the people with one language wanted to stay in one place.” They wanted to establish “an identity that will endure . . . to perpetuate a single culture – the human race speaking one language and living in one place” (Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 3, Ralph W. Klein, p. 3,5). I guess it made no difference to them that the command from God at the beginning of creation was to: “be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth” (Genesis 1:28). In fact, according to the story, it’s the very first thing God tells us; that is after blessing us and reminding us how beloved we are. We are to fill all the earth – this grand creation of God’s that God intricately made in vast variety. If God wanted everything the same, one kind, one culture, one location, and one language; then God would have made it that way from the start! We’d all be women or we’d all be men. The whole world would just be fish or birds or creeping things – not all of them and so much more. And then in such diverse array of types. . . . The beauty of anything is to behold it in all its vast array. Color pops when there’s all different shades of black and blue and green and red and purple and yellow. It really means something – moving to our spirits, I think, when we can reach beyond our own little boundaries – our own little ways – and connect with someone or something so very different from ourselves. When we can understand one another – what the other values and yearns for in this life – across the different words we use. Despite the varying languages we speak. Like that children’s book by Mem Fox that reminds us that laughter is the same and tears are the same and blood is the same. Love is the same whoever you are, where ever you are all over the world (Whoever You Are, Mem Fox, 1997).
That’s what happened when that first Pentecost occurred after Christ’s resurrection. It wasn’t one unified language the disciples started speaking so that everyone finally understood. And it wasn’t some sort of glossa or speaking in tongues as some believe. It was, according to the text: “In other languages” (Acts 2:4). That’s what absolutely amazed the Parthians, Medes, Elamites, residents of Mesopotamia, Judea, and Cappadocia, Pontus, Asia, Phrygia, Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs. As the text records: “In our own native language” we hear the disciple speaking to us (Acts 2:8). Somehow the Spirit caused the first followers of Christ to speak the language of the people who were right around them. To communicate in words that meant something to those who were listening because the words used were exactly what they could understand. Pentecost reminds us that we must learn the language of those we want to hear of God’s amazing deeds of power. We must speak in a way that will connect with what they already value – what they already know that they too might come to trust the good news we have to share.
In the beautiful book Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen explains in his introduction that a much younger, secular Jewish friend named Fred once asked him – an older, Roman Catholic priest and professor of Yale Divinity School – to write for him and others like him. Nouwen explains that he finally undertook the writing of Life of the Beloved in the early 1990s because Fred had asked: “’Why don’t you write something about a spiritual life for me and for my friends?’” . . . After a while Nouwen came to see that: Fred’s “own experience and that of his friends required another tone. Another language. Another spiritual wave length.” Nouwen writes: “As I gradually came to know Fred’s friends and got a feel for their interests and concerns,” (not to mention the chaotic, demanding, isolating ways they lived), he “better understood Fred’s remarks about the need for a spirituality that speaks to men and women in a secularized society.” Nouwen writes: “Much of my thinking and writing presupposed familiarity with concepts and images that for centuries had nourished the spiritual life of Christians and Jews. But for many people, these concepts and images had lost their power to bring them into touch with their spiritual center.” Nouwen confesses that “Fred’s idea that I say something about the Spirit that his friends and he could hear stayed with me. He was asking me to respond to the great spiritual hunger and thirst that exist in countless people who walk the streets of big cities. ‘You have something to say,’” Fred kept telling Nouwen. “’But you keep saying it to people who least need to hear it. What about us? Young, ambitious, secular men and women wondering what life is all about after all.” Fred asked: “Can you speak to us with the same conviction as you speak to those who share your tradition, your language, and your vision?’ . . . It became the plea that arose from every side.” Fred begged Nouwen to: “’Speak to us about the deepest yearnings of our hearts. Of our many wishes. About hope. Not about the many strategies for survival, but about trust. Not about new methods of satisfying our emotional needs, but about love. Speak to us about a vision larger than our changing perspectives and about a Voice deeper than the clamorings of our mass media. Yes, speak to us about something or Someone greater than ourselves. Speak to us about God. . . . You can do it,’” Fred said. “’Look attentively at what you see (among us) and listen carefully to what you hear (among us). You will discover a cry welling up from the depths of the human heart that has remained unheard because there was no one to listen.” Nouwen’s spiritually hungry friend told him what the masses today still plead: “Speak from that place in your heart where you are most yourself. Speak directly, simply, lovingly, gently, and without any apologies. Tell us what you see and want us to see. Tell us what you hear and want us to hear. Trust your own heart. The words will come.’” (Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen, 1992, from the Introduction).
Isn’t that exactly what Pentecost teaches us: to tell what we see and want others to see. To tell what we hear and want others to hear. To trust our own hearts; for the words will come. That’s the work of God’s Spirit in us all. . . . For the sake of us all today – those who hunger and thirst and those who believe they’ve got it all figured out: let us speak, let us speak the words of Life. The language of our hearts.
In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.
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