Jesus-in-the-headlights

As a pastor, I’ll admit that I sometimes don’t have all the answers. There are times when I will look like a deer caught in the headlights. This usually happens when someone asks an awesome, legitimate, and totally relevant question or makes such an insightful comment, that I feel completely inadequate to answer, model, or illustrate.

On Wednesday night, right before Thanksgiving, I was meeting with my Sunday School teachers and Education committee chair. We were discussing the curriculums being used, the experience of Sunday School so far, and our dreams for the future. As we started to dig deep and brainstorm a more holistic approach to youth ministry (i.e. looking at Youth Ministry from birth through college), a comment was made that I think is completely spot on: “What we’re trying to do is to show and experience what a relationship with Jesus Christ actually looks like.” I did not make this comment but when I heard it, it felt a bit like a dagger in the heart. Even though I’m a trained theologian, ordained, and with a Master of Divinity hanging on my wall, I don’t have an answer to this statement. I can’t give out a checklist for others to know what this looks like. I sometimes even think that I don’t even know, or fully experience, what this relationship is about. I sometimes feel, and experience, distance and the absence of God. I also think that is totally normal but, as a religious professional, it can be downright scary. I don’t always feel like I embody this relationship to even serve as a model to others, nor to the young people of the congregation. But I know that this is something to aim for – and I pray that the Holy Spirit will help us make this happen.

Not Yet A Sheep

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

Matthew 25:31-46

My sermon from Christ the King Sunday (November 23, 2014) on Matthew 25:31-46. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

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After hearing this reading from Matthew – doesn’t it feel like this really should be the shortest sermon ever? I should just stand here and say “Don’t be a goat! Amen.”

This text from Matthew feels simple. This is our last public teaching from Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel. Jesus has been wandering around the Temple and outside of it, teaching to his disciples, those who are curious, and those who are trying to arrest him. And these are the last words in the Gospel of Matthew that Jesus utters before the Last Supper, before Jesus’s arrest, before his trial, and execution.

Jesus talks about the Son of Man returning in glory – returning from Heaven, with a huge entourage of angels, to judge the world. He sits on a throne and begins to split everyone into two groups. On his right – he puts those who he’ll bless and welcome into eternal life and he calls them sheep. On his left, he puts those who’ll be going someplace else and he calls them goats. The ones on his right did good – they clothed the naked, fed the hungry, visited the sick, saw those in prison. The ones on his left didn’t. It seems that their actions determined where they stand in this great judgment. Those who did good are blessed and get eternal life. Those who didn’t, don’t. It seems so simple, really. Here is the list of what we need to do to be a disciple of Christ: visit, feed, care, and love. That’s all it takes.

But – and there’s always a but – that’s not all that is shared in this story because our sheep and our goats do something very interesting. When they are split into two groups, and Jesus pronounces his judgement – explaining why they are where they are – both sides react the same way.

They’re surprised.

And it’s that surprise that makes this teaching not as simple as it first appears. If the goats and the sheep didn’t say anything – if they were just separated and we never heard them talk back to Jesus – then, yes, this teaching seems to be “do this and God will love you.” But the goats and the sheep – well – they talk back. They question. They look at Jesus and say “wait a minute…when did we help you….?”

So the sheep and the goats – they had no idea they were sheep and goats. They had no idea that their actions were being seen. They had no idea that their actions would have consequences. The goats – well – I think that’s an easy response for them. We hear in scripture, and we experience, selfishness. We know when we don’t give. We know when we don’t care for others. We have all experienced those moments – those hesitations – when we didn’t give that beggar a dollar even though something in our heart told us too. Or we didn’t pick up that phone call from a friend because we didn’t want to listen to them complain one more time. Or we just were so focused on our own needs that we just couldn’t see what was going on around us. The response – the questioning – by the goats makes sense.

But the sheep? That’s the odd bit here. Why are they surprised too?

It’s their surprise that makes this a hard text – a complicated text. If they weren’t surprised, then they knew that this result – this blessing to eternal life – was the way it was going to be. The sheep knew the end result so they behaved the right way. But they didn’t know. Instead, their good deeds were just a reaction to what was already inside them. They loved and cared for those who hungered, those who were sick, those who were a stranger – not because of any reward they would get – but just because that’s who they are. Their actions weren’t forced. Their actions were effortless. Their goodness and love was just part of their identity, their DNA – and it just comes out. These sheep are, to use the language of Matthew, are good trees and they bear good fruit. Their identity – their inner core – their sense of being – caused these actions of love, welcome, care, and support.

And that means these words from Jesus are a lot harder than they first appear. They aren’t about actions – they’re about identity – who we are and what makes us tick. And questions of identity lead into very personal questions – questions like: am I good? Do ethical things just come naturally – or are they forced? Am I trying to hard to do the right thing? Am I a sheep? Or am I a goat?

But before we answer those questions – we need to keep our eye focused on what comes next – on what happens when we turn the page – when we leave chapter 25 and head into chapter 26. It’s there when we see Jesus feed his disciples at the Last Supper – sharing that holy meal with those who’ll betray him, those who’ll deny him, and those who’ll run from him when he’s hanging on the cross. We need to keep our eyes on the One who’ll be stripped and mocked by the Roman soldiers. Who’ll thirst and be fed vinegar. Who’ll be imprisoned and no one will come to him. The One who’ll be nailed to the Cross – he’ll give up his life to reconcile the world to God – he’ll model just what it means to be the ultimate sheep.

This text from Matthew 25 is a hard text. It’s a text that accuses as much as it enlightens. It forces us to ask questions about ourselves – about our actions – about what we have done and about what we have not done – about whether we bear the good fruit that God calls us to bear – or whether we hesitate – make mistakes – fail to live out God’s love – God’s call to welcome the person who we don’t know and who doesn’t look or sound like us – or clothe the naked or feed the hungry or care for the sick.

This is a text that accuses – it shakes its finger at us – it calls us to account – and it forces us to turn to what’s about to come and what has come — and that’s Jesus Christ. Matthew 25 isn’t about what we need to do to be good Christians or faithful or whatever. Matthew 25 is about what Jesus did – about what Jesus brings – about what Jesus does – and about our need for Jesus in our life.

We know we’re not sheep. But, through Christ, we’re not goats either.

So what does that mean then? Where do we go from here? Do we wait until the good just kinda happens – until that faith mojo kicks in and we’re able to just spontaneously do all the good that we’re called to do?

No – we’re not called to wait. We’re not called to hesitate. We’re not called to decide when our faith is strong enough to help others because those in need are right in front of us here and now. We’re not here to decide when we’re enough – when we’ve got all we need to be strong, all we need to be faithful, all we need to be feel secure in helping out those around us. No, we’re not here to wait until we’re enough but, instead, to rest on the promise that Christ is enough. That Christ gives us strength. That Christ is with us. And that, in baptism, in the Holy Spirit, God’s promise is enough.

We’re not Christ but that doesn’t mean we can’t be Christ to our friends, family, neighbors, and strangers. We’re called to welcome – to invite – to share – to care – to love – not because we’re perfect; not because we’re awesome; not because we’ll always get it right. We’re called to do all these things because Jesus promises to walk with us – to be a presence in our life – to help turn us into sheep rather than let us remain as goats.

The challenge, then, isn’t to be filled with faith. The challenge is to live into God’s promise that we will be given that fullness of faith – that we will be given grace – that we are given all that we need, right now, to live, and love, as Jesus did.

The challenge is to be Christ-like: to notice the friend in need; to notice the stranger who needs hope; to notice those who hunger and thirst and who can’t hear the gospel because they’re too busy just trying to find something to eat.

The challenge is to see that next page – to know that, after Matthew 25, that hill on Calvary comes – that the actions of God to reconcile the world through Jesus Christ happened – that they matter – and that we might not be a sheep right now, we might still mistakes, we might still hesitate, we might not care or heal like Jesus did – but that doesn’t mean we don’t try —- not because it earns us favor with God —- but because that favor has already been given to us.

The world has already been saved —- and now, it needs to be loved.

Amen.

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A Reflection on Ezekiel 34

This text from Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24 is God’s reminder that we are always at the front of God’s mind even if God isn’t on the front of ours.

The former bishop of the New Jersey Synod said something like this recently at a preaching workshop on Advent but I believe our Old Testament reading from today says something very similar. This is the last Sunday of the church year. Not long ago, it gain its own name: Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday. Scripture lessons were picked to lift up the presence of Christ in our lives and to challenge us by asking who (or what) really structures how we live our life.

In this piece from Ezekiel, God takes the initiative to search for God’s own people. This can easily be seen as a radical act on God’s part. So much of our approach to spirituality and faith can appear to be centered on ourselves. We ask questions about what we believe, what we stand for, and what feeds our souls. These questions are powerful and necessary to sustain our faith journey. But God turns this around. No longer is God asking for the people to turn towards God, God is now actively going to God’s people. God isn’t asking God’s people to be perfect before God reaches down to them. God comes to God’s people after calamity and during suffering. God comes to care for God’s people. And God does this because that is just what God does.

The language of covenant and promise are all over this piece of Ezekiel because God is a God of promise. These promises are not made because we are wonderful but because God is love. God comes to meet us in baptism, in the words of scripture, in our prayers, and in holy communion to share with us that God’s promises are true promises that we cannot make broken. God cares for us. God comes to break injustice. God comes to renew, restore, and resurrect. God’s story is that we are always on God’s mind even if, during our busy lives, God isn’t always on ours.

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for Christ the King Sunday, 11/23/2014.

Oratio – Tentatio – Meditatio – Missio

One of the pastors I interned with for four years wrote this in a card to me in honor of my ordination.

“Luther and others before him said that oratio – prayer; tentatio – testing; meditatio – studying the scriptures make a theologian. Good advice for our lives as pastors. We are blessed.

I’d add missio – mission. A pastor and congregation engaged in outreach – sharing the good news in word and action – will be a congregation and pastor that celebrate a life turned outward in love.”

Rev’d Up

So I finally have an official adjective associated with my name now. I was ordained as a pastor in the ELCA on November 8.

Rev. Paul Milholland, Rev. Marc A. Stutzel, Kate Stutzel, Oliver Stutzel, George Stutzel

I heard the ceremony described as one of the best, moving, and joyous worship services that the church puts on. I had a great time at mine but missed most of it because my eyes were closed during the various prayers. Family and friends made the journey out to NJ to witness the event and ten individuals from my current parish attended as well. It was awesome.

The picture above is my family with Pastor Paul. His first act as pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church, Long Island City was marrying K and I. Now, four years later, he was my sponsoring pastor at my ordination. He wanted a good picture that he could put on his mantle, next to our wedding picture.

Now I just need to add “Rev” to my signature. It doesn’t flow quite yet.

Talentless

“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

Matthew 25:14-30

My sermon from 23rd Sunday after Pentecost (November 16, 2014) on Matthew 25:14-30. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

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Living in New York City, I didn’t see a lot of fall leaves. When fall came, I’d spot a few trees along the street turning red and gold, and I knew that their leaves would fall, but I rarely ever saw them fall. I didn’t get that crunch-crunch-crunch sound from walking in leaves because – as those leaves fell, the super of the building would come out, sweep them into the street, and that would be it.

Now that I’m living here in New Jersey, I have the exact opposite experience. There’s an amazing number of beautiful trees, gold, red, orange – and they all decided this week that they were just going to give up. There are leaves everywhere. I can watch them fall outside my window, they land on me when I go outside, and instead of just crunch-crunch-crunch, I’m slipping on them as I try to go up and down stairs. The world is buried by an abundance of leaves. So, yesterday, as I raked an incredible amount of yellow and gold leaves into a giant pile, I had this parable from Matthew stuck in my mind. As the pile grew so big that I could be practically lost in it, it reminded me of an image I grew up with and still see from time to time on TV and cartoons – and that’s Scrooge McDuck’s swimming pool. I mean, when I imagine what an abundant amount of wealth and money looks like – a swimming pool filled with gold, jewels, and cash is totally it.
But our parable today is about more than just money or being rich. This parable is about the concept of abundance – and just how to reframe ourselves so that we act, breathe, and live through the reality of God’s abundance in our lives – even though that abundance can be very, very, hard to see.

So Jesus starts this parable in an interesting way. He doesn’t talk about the Kingdom of Heaven or the Kingdom of God – no, he’s instead building on what we heard last week – the parable of the bridesmaids with lamps and the final words from Jesus that we are called to “keep awake.” But instead of bridesmaids this week, we have a rich man, a journey, three slaves, and what happens when that rich man gives his slaves an incredible sum of money to watch over while he’s gone.

Now, we need to realize that when we hear the word “talent,” we’re not talking about an ability. The rich man doesn’t give one of his slaves five skills – like making him an incredible dancer or cook. No, a talent is an actual measure of wealth. So, for those of us who get a paycheck, social security, or maybe just an allowance, imagine if you reached into your pocket and found a roll of cash with 20 years of your wages on it. That’s one talent. So this rich man is about to take a journey and he gives one of his slaves 5 talents, another 2 talents, and the other 1. He’s giving away 100 years of wages, 40 years of wages, and then 20 years of wages. That’s how much money this guy has and he gives it to these three slaves with no instructions, no rules, no requirements. He just gives it away, leaves, and lets the slaves do what they wish.

Now what would you do if you suddenly had 100 years of wages in your hand right now?

Well, the first two slaves get busy. They go out, wheel and deal, and double their money. The slave with 100 years worth of money now has 200 and the slave with 40 now has 80. But the third one does something very different – he takes that money and buries it. Now, that might seem odd to us but burying money was something people did in Jesus’ time. That slave took the money and buried it to protect it so that none of it would be lost. He was given twenty years of wages and did nothing with it but he didn’t lose it.

So the rich man comes back and he asks his slaves what happened to the wealth he gave them. The first and second slave tell the rich man that they doubled his money and this makes the rich happy. He’s promises each slave that he’ll give them more responsibility, more wealth, more power in the future.

But the slave who hid that talent comes forward and, maybe noticing that the other two doubled their money, he begins to explain himself. Now, his explanation might seem a little odd to us – but it makes sense in his context. In Jesus’ time, it was believed that there was a finite and static amount of wealth in the world. If you made money, you had to have taken it from someone else. For this rich man to have his own swimming pool of gold and money, he must have taken all that money and gold from someone else. You only get wealthy if someone else gets poorer. And so this slave, thinking this way, was afraid. The rich man got wealthy by taking from others – and this slave was afraid of what would happened if he ended up with no money left – if he ended up making someone else richer and the rich man poorer. So the slave played it safe and brought back the talent to this rich man.

And then the rich man does something strange. He gets mad.

We need to be careful at this point to not focus too much on the success of the other two slaves. Sure, they doubled their money and the rich man seems happy about that – but that rich man gets angry with his third slave not over money but because of the slave’s inaction.

If we go back to the start of the parable, we see that each slave was given a certain amount of wealth according to their ability. The rich man doesn’t need more money. He’s going on a trip – and his slaves don’t even think about taking his money or running away or buying their freedom and no longer being slaves. This rich man is so comfortable in his position of authority and power, that more money, more wealth, won’t change who he is or what he can do. Instead, he gives out of his abundance to these slaves and gives them no instructions. Instead, he portions out the wealth in the amounts that he knows they could do something with. So when the rich man looks at that third slave and gets angry – he even tells the slave that the least he could have done was do something that writings in the Old Testament are very much against – and that’s put the money in the bank to get interest.

Now, this isn’t a parable about money or our material wealth. This is a parable about living out of a place of abundance. That third slave was locked in a mindset of scarcity. He was worried about what would happen when he lost it all. But the rich man didn’t need more money and the slaves didn’t need more money either. Money isn’t what defined them because money wasn’t really what they were given. What they were given was abundance – and they were challenged to live out of that abundance rather than out of their fear of losing it.

That challenge – to live out of a sense of abundance – that was difficult in Jesus’ time and it’s difficult in ours too. Turn on the tv to BBC America and watch an episode of Top Gear – and we’ll see an amazing car that we might never be able to afford. Open our mail and there might be a medical expense, some credit card debt, a student loan payment, or another reminder that we’re not as abundant as we’d like. And isn’t there always another thing on our unending to-do list? Another kid to pick up, homework to turn in, project to finish, errand to run, or challenge to overcome. Time and money, these define our sense of abundance. We’ve got too much to do, not enough time to do it, and not enough money to really live the life we expect.

Scarcity can feel very much like a squeezing – like trying to tread water during a tropical storm. The instinct is to turn inward, to conserve, to draw our arms tight around ourselves and push everyone out. The fear of being swamped by one more wave – one more bill – one more unexpected experience – turns us to just go ahead and protect ourselves. We bury our ability to take risks, our ability to change, our willingness to try something we haven’t tried before because we’re too busy trying to not lose what we have around us.

But that’s not what God has in mind for us.

This text isn’t about scaring us – this text is about giving shape to where the Christian life begins which is firmly in the one who, when nailed to the Cross, looked like the complete opposite of abundance – the opposite of security – he was the pure essence of scarcity – abandoned by his friends, arrested and tortured by the ones who occupied his homeland, and he felt completely abandoned by the God of us all – the Christian life begins there – in the one who was broken but who was about to do a very brand new thing. The text isn’t telling us to be afraid of brokenness or to never be afraid at all. We’re human – we’re going to feel fear – we’re going to be scared – but fear, failure and scarcity doesn’t define us. Fear, failure, and scarcity doesn’t make us who we are. And we shouldn’t let those limit whose we are.

[9:00 AM
So, if we take that jump and try to live out of a sense of abundance – what would that actually look like? One way might be is to talk about the gifts that God gives us – those talents or abilities we have that others don’t – and that we should use those to further God’s kingdom in the world. But I’m not convinced that’s what Jesus is doing here. I don’t think Jesus is talking about abilities and skills or even money – Jesus, instead, is challenging that underlying sense of scarcity that turns us inwards, keeps our eyes firmly on ourselves. We don’t see our friend in need because we don’t have time to give them a call. We don’t see our family in distress because we’re too busy driving to the next event, to that next thing. We don’t see the stranger suffering because we’re just so tired that trying to get to know someone new is just something we can’t do. But that’s what a vision of scarcity does. And the truth is that we’re not living a life in scarcity because we’ve been brought into the life of the one who can only be abundant. Brokenness doesn’t define us – Resurrection does. The invitation, then, is to live that Resurrection out – to reach out to that friend, to take a breath and look, really look, at our spouse, child, brother, or sister – and to learn the name of the person sitting next to you – to be abundant in the face of scarcity because, like the leaves outside, piled in the street, in our yards, and on our cars – we are claimed by that God whose love for us, for our friends, for our neighbors, and for the entire world is abundantly boundless.

Amen. ]

[10:30 AM baptism
In a minute, we’re going to get a little abundant in our life together here at Christ Lutheran Church. I’m going to invite Jackson to come on up here with his family and sponsors and we’re going to baptize him. We’re going to bear public witness to God’s love of Jackson, God’s claiming of Jackson, God’s promise to make Jackson brand new. And we’re going to do it in a very scarce way. We’ll use only a few words – only a few prayers – and we’ll only use a little bit of water in our small font. Yet, in these very small and ordinary things, we’re going to live abundantly. We’re going to hear God’s promise to Jackson to always be by his side. We’re going to hear about God’s promise to lead the son Jackson to the Son on the Cross. We’re going to hear about God’s promise to love Jackson not because Jackson will always be perfect but because God’s promises are. We’re going to proclaim that God’s abundant care for this world is going to be shown in this little bit of water, this little bit of words, and this little human being. We’re going to show that abundance isn’t defined by quantity – it isn’t defined by absurd numbers or extravagance. No, the abundance that we proclaim, the abundance that we live into, the abundance that feeds us, nourishes us, and changes us – that’s God’s abundance.

We’re invited to continue to live out that sense of abundance. We’re called to not let scarcity define us. We’re told to not conserve but to share, not to hold back but to proclaim, not to retreat but to go out, to meet our neighbors in Woodcliff Lake, Hillsdale, Park Ridge, and beyond – to know them – know their communities – know their needs, hopes, wants, troubles, sorrows, and joys – and to live abundantly with them not because we’re perfect or because we’re fearless or because we’re always going to double our money and never fail. No, we live abundantly because, like the leaves outside that are piled in the street, in our yards, and on our cars – we are claimed by that God whose love for us, for our friends, for our neighbors, and for the entire world is completely, 100%, totally boundless. To love – that’s our invitation, that’s our calling, and Jackson – that’s your calling too. We welcome you to a new experience and a new life that calls all of us to be, do, and explore the world as abundantly brand new.

Amen. ]

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The Day of the Lord

Our reading from the Old Testament is from Zephaniah 1:7,12-18, a book which probably was composed around 630 BCE after an era where the worship of multiple gods supplanted the worship of God. Zephaniah is encouraging the king of his time, Josiah, to throw out that worship and commit the nation to the worship of the one true God. And it is in this hostile environment where we hear Zephaniah talk about the day of the Lord.

The day of the Lord is mentioned all over the prophets. My personal favorite exposition of the phrase is in Joel. Both Joel and Zephaniah imagine the day of the Lord as something that is coming very soon. The day of the Lord is different from contemporary images of what the “end times” will look like. There will be no war or great battle between good and evil. God, as supreme ruler, cannot be competed with. God will merely cast judgement. The day will be a day of wrath, violence, and incredible sorrow because, as Zephaniah states, “they have sinned against the Lord.”

But this wrath, for Zephaniah, is directed towards one set of people: those who are indifferent to God and God’s wants in the world. And what is it that God wants? Justice. Love. Healed relationships. God isn’t indifferent to the world. God is active in it, moving through us and the world, helping us to love our neighbors, heal our friends, and raise up the strangers in our midst so that their life is full and filled. God loves us – and we are called to love everyone too.

To look at the day of the Lord and focus only on the wrath and violence is to see only half of the story. The other half tells us what God is looking for. Eric Mathis writes, “The day of the Lord is the day when indifference will no longer be tolerated. The day of the Lord is the day when, out of blood and ashes and flesh and dung, will, in fact, come something good: the promise of a future where God reigns over all people and all things.” God’s future is our future. Let’s live into that.

Each week, I write a reflection on one of our scripture readings for the week. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship Bulletin for 23rd Sunday After Pentecost, 11/16/2014.

Thoughts on Heaven

We hosted a movie night at Christ Lutheran Church tonight where we showed “Heaven is for Real.” After the movie, I shared a short reflection on heaven and a thirty minute discussion with the 27 folks in attendance. Here’s the script that I prepared (but didn’t necessarily follow).

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So, after this movie showing was scheduled on the calendar, I was asked to share some thoughts about heaven. So consider this my scripted take on “heaven” and, after this, we’ll have a short talk-back about the film where I would love to hear your thoughts on the movie, on heaven, on your experiences, etc.

But before I can get to heaven, I need to share a little bit about me. My name is Marc Stutzel, I’m brand new here at Christ Lutheran, brand new to New Jersey, and brand new to being a pastor too. I was officially ordained as a pastor just last Saturday and my first day here at Christ was October 1st. I moved out here to New Jersey at the end of June and graduated from seminary in May. So I’m new to this place – I’m new to being called Pastor Marc – I’m new to being the resident theologian of a church. I’m new to being asked questions like “what is heaven?” but I’m not new in wanting answers to questions like these. The title of our movie tonight is an answer to that question – it’s a matter-o-fact statement that Heaven is Real. It exists and it’s a place.

Now, in this church, we read the bible in a translation called the New Revised Standard version and if you search for the word “heaven” – it appears over 600 times. Early references to heaven describe it as a place distinct from what we experience. The very first verse says “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth‚Ķ” and Genesis goes on to describe heaven in some kind of vertical relationship with us. Heaven is “up there,” away from us, distant – but not so distant that we can’t see it or be influenced by it. The stars, moon, and sun are in heaven (Deut 4:19)…when God promises that Abram’s descendants will be numberless, God asks Abram to count “the stars in heaven.” (Gen 15:5) God is also described as the “Lord of heaven and earth” (Gen 24:3) and during the Exodus, manna comes down from heaven to feed the people in the wilderness (Ex. 16:4). As we move along, we hear of there being something called “the heavens of heaven” (Deut 10:14) which also belong to God. When Solomon builds the first temple in Jerusalem, he describes heaven as a place that can’t even contain God – so how could this little building on earth contain God as well?(1 Kings 8:27) Solomon continues his prayer at the Temple by describing heaven as “God’s dwelling place.” Both the book of Job and the Psalms continue to expand on this vision of heaven as place – but as a place that is bigger than our experience, comprehension, and a place that can’t even contain God. There are even words of God being exalted OVER heaven (Ps 57:11). In Isaiah, we hear God say that “Heaven is my throne and the earth is my footstool; what is the house that you would build for me, and what is my resting place?” (Is 66:1) Heaven is also described as a place that is filled with beings. When we hear the phrase in scripture “the hosts of heaven,” we need to know that what is being described is “the army of heaven.” So Heaven might be vast but it is not empty.

Now, I know I’m being quick and not very indepth – but I get the sense that the writers of scripture seem to have a sense of heaven as a place distinct from the earth – a place where God dwells but that does not contain or bound God to only one location. God is still able to interact and get involved here on earth.

Now, when we look at the New Testament – we see heaven mentioned all the time. Heaven is indeed a place – it’s a kingdom – but it’s a kingdom that’s on the move. Right off the bat, we have John the Baptist saying “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Heaven is described as a place that we can enter into, some place we will get to in the future, a place where we can gain and stockpile treasure. Jesus loves starting parables with the phrase “the kingdom of heaven is like” – for example, “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field” or like “a merchant in search of fine pearls” or “like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind” or “like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed”. So heaven is a place – Jesus even describes heaven as we would describe the sky – a place where rain comes from. So heaven is described as a physical place but also as a kingdom – a place with beings, a ruler, a government of some type – but this kingdom doesn’t seem static. It moves. It makes its impact felt right now – intersecting into this earth, burrowing into our lives, right now. John’s gospel, out of the four, is the most explicit about this. We hear of Jesus coming down from Heaven – John’s gospel much more reinforces this up-and-down, vertical relationship between earth and heaven and that Jesus moves from one to the other. One lens we can use to expand on this vertical dimension of heaven is to see through the lens of baptism – to see when Jesus is baptized that the heavens opened – a dove descended – and a voice came down – and that the heavens are still open. We can continue this theme of openness through Matthew when, after Jesus is crucified, the curtain in the temple that sealed off where God’s presence was fully felt and experienced – the holy of holies – is broken. We can see that as God’s presence has been removed from the Temple or that God’s real presence can no longer be seen as in only one place.

Now, in the beginning of Acts, we hear that Jesus ascends into heaven – there’s some famous art in the world where you have the disciples staring up into the sky and, at the top of the painting or statue or wood carving, you just have a couple of feet hanging up there. We hear about Peter having a dream where animals descend from Heaven. We hear about visions of Jesus being seen standing next to the Father in heaven. Paul is blinded by a light from heaven. And we also hear Paul describe his own trip to heaven and of another believer’s trip to “the third heaven” – whatever that is. And the book of Revelation is framed as a vision and trip to heaven.

So I went through quickly what scripture says about heaven as a place – and scripture spends a lot of time talking about heaven as a place. It has dimension, it’s physical, it has a vastness that cannot even contain God. But we can also see heaven being some kind of force – a movement – reminding me of the Holy Spirit or when God’s breath moved over the waters at creation – Jesus’ favorite use of the word heaven is to imagine heaven as a place that breaks into the world right now. And, if I’m honest, I’ll admit that my analysis here is just on the surface. There’s a lot more to heaven than just this short reflection can contain.

But I think there’s another component to heaven that’s important, and that’s what we bring to the conversation.

Now, I told you all earlier that I just graduated from seminary – and, well, in seminary, I didn’t take a class on heaven. Heaven wasn’t on the radar. And when I reached out to colleagues of mine about what to dig into to prepare for tonight, I didn’t get many responses. My experience among Lutheran clergy – us who are religious professionals – is that we don’t dig into heaven as a place very much. But we do deal with heaven everyday.

Let me explain.

As a religious professional, we deal with death – a lot. We witness and experience pain and loss. We experience broken hearts, broken lives, and broken relationships. We see, name, and identify hurt because that’s part of our job.

Now, even though I’m new, I’ve been in rooms where I’ve watched people take their last breath. I’ve seen children and adults, old and very young, die for a variety of reasons. I’ve seen families cry and shed tears, I’ve seen families fight with each other over how the funeral should be arranged, and I’ve seen deaths bring living people together and tear living people apart. I’ve seen hope vanish from the face of people and seen hope and love come back into their faces. I’ve seen restoration – I’ve seen people who’s lives have been destroyed through violence, addiction, economics and whatever – and I’ve seen them flourish. I’ve seen them come back to life – I’ve seen them resurrected.

And it’s because of all of that – because of my experience of seeing hope end and also begin, of witnessing death and resurrection – that I, like that movie title, believe that Heaven is For Real.

Now, if I went into specifics – and we’ll have time to talk about specifics – I wouldn’t agree with the details of the book or movie that we saw tonight. There’s something about it that is too comfortable for me and not hopeful enough. Both the book and the movie tend to focus on areas of faith or questions of faith that I don’t necessarily find meaningful or lifegiving to me. I don’t care about Jesus’ eyes, for example, nor do I think about angels singing to me much. I think the movie spends a lot of time focusing on the place of heaven rather than on the experience of heaven. And what I mean by that is that I tend to find Jesus’ use of heaven as life-giving. Heaven, for Jesus, is a place. It’s real. But heaven is also a movement – an experience – something that happens and happens to us. And Jesus models that in his parables, in his use of the words “the kingdom of heaven,” and in his practice and ministry. He models the kingdom of heaven coming near – and calls us to that ministry as well. Heaven is real but heaven isn’t distant. It has come near and we are in its beginning.

As a Lutheran Christian, I’d be remiss if I didn’t name drop Martin Luther once and so I’ll end this with something he said that, I think, illustrates this vision of heaven as a movement – as an experience – as something that impacts our lives here and now. He said “Eternal life begins here, in our hearts; for when we begin to believe in Christ, after we have been baptized, then, according to faith and the Word, we are liberated from death, from sin, and from the devil.” Eternal life begins now. Heaven begins now. And we’re called to live that life out.