In the news: Churches mark 500th anniversary of Protestant Reformation

This is a copy of a news article I appeared in on October 30, 2017.. It celebrates a joint worship service with First Congregational in Park Ridge, Christ Lutheran Church, and Pascack Reformed Church to honor the 500th Anniversary of the Reformation. My picture appeared on the cover of the local section in the Record. Article by Michael W. Curley, Jr. Photo by Mitsu Yasukawa. Includes video!

Luther’s break from the Catholic Church started the Protestant movement as others followed suit, resulting in numerous denominations splitting from what was at the time the only Christian church.

The various denominations of Christianity are still related after the Reformation, often referred to as a schism within the church, Stutzel said. Even though they each approach their faith differently, he said, the denominations are more similar than they are different.

“Over the last 200 years or so, the Lutherans in this country, mostly, not all of us, have had experiences where we’ve started joining together instead of splitting apart. We’ve been really acting on joining together,” he said. “There’s a movement to celebrate what’s common to us.”

As different faiths have often used arguments on faith to remain separate, Sunday represented “something strange,” Stutzel said, likening the shared service to Luther’s habit of inviting many different people to his home for dinner to talk with them.

“We’re a united and uniting church,” Suriano said. “So we’re very interested in joining together with other churches from the inception of our denomination.”

The pastors said they have been working toward bringing their congregations together since they each came to their churches in the last three years, including a joint Cross Walk around Easter.

They decided to make events out of the fifth Sunday of a month into special events, and with Reformation Sunday and the 500th anniversary of the Reformation falling on a fifth Sunday, it made an obvious choice to kick off the practice.

“Our motto is, ‘reformed and always reforming,’ so we’re always looking for new ways to connect, have a relationship with God, a relationship with others,” Romero said. “We think that we can still be together and connected in all the ways that we have in common.”

Is Or About? A Reformation 500 Celebration

Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” They answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.”

John 8:31-36

My sermon from the 500th Anniversary of the Reformation (October 29, 2017) on John 8:31-36. We were thrilled to worship together with Pascack Reformed Church and First Congregational United Church of Christ! Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

****************************

In New York City near the Empire State Building, there’s an entire city block that’s one of my favorite places to go. 32nd street, between 5th Ave and Madison Avenue, is filled with karaoke bars, beauty shops, and bbq restaurants that let you grill seafood, meat, and vegetables right at your table. This block is the heart of Koreatown, a cultural hub for the 200,000 Koreans and Korean-Americans who call the City and the surrounding area – home. When I lived in New York City, I had an old roommate who introduced me to this place. She was born and raised in South Korea so when we went out, we’d let her order for everyone at the table. She’d look at the menu, pick a few dishes, and switch seamlessly between English and Korean as she ordered our meal. And then, once the food arrived, her stories would start. She’d introduce us to a new vegetable, telling us where it grew, how it was used, and when it was harvested. We learned what foods were served on holidays and which dishes her grandmother made to mark special occasions. In her stories, we met extended family members, visited distant villages, and reveled in the old legends and myths that make a culture what they are. The more we ate, the more we experienced the history, culture, and personal stories that made my roommate who she was. Events that I could read about in my history books – like the occupation of Korea by Japan prior to World War 2, the Korean War in the early 1950s, and the dictatorships and the struggle for democracy afterwards, were fleshed out as my roommate told these same stories but with the names of her family members baked in. One of the dishes she introduced to me is Budae Jjigae, known in english as Army Base Stew. After the cease-fire between North and South Korea was signed, food was in short supply. Processed meats from US military bases were smuggled and sold on the local black markets. Spam, Hot Dogs, and various kinds of ham were mixed with Kimchi, Baked Beans, scallions, and whatever else was lying around. Army Base Stew is one of those dishes where literally everything is thrown into a pot – and you have no idea what you’re eating – but it’s delicious – so you just keep on eating. This dish was invented because people were hungry. Families created Army Base Stew to feed each other and their neighbors. This dish tells a story and when eat it, especially if we’re not Korean or we don’t need food pantries or SNAP benefits to survive, this dish moves us to experience something new. This, I think, is one of the amazing things that happens when we mix meals with stories. When we eat together, every story spoken around the table connects, mixes, and forms something new. Instead of learning about someone else’s history and culture, we encounter it, discovering a history and an identity that’s filled with real people with real names. When we listen to these stories over steaming stews, plates of food, and when we’re surrounded by bread and drink – the chewing on the food and the chewing on the words – changes us. We are no longer what we were before. The story and its storyteller have left their mark.

So, it might be a little strange to begin this sermon on the 500th anniversary of a movement that started in Germany by describing a Korean dish that was invented in the 1950s and that I consumed in a city that didn’t even exist when Martin Luther posted his 95 thoughts about Jesus, faith, and the church on a big old church door in Wittenberg on Oct 31, 1517. But if we’re honest, all of us are doing something a little strange today too. At this very moment, we’re supposed to be in our different church buildings using our different liturgical and theological traditions to feed, grow, and reflect on our faith. Each one of our communities can trace their origin to what Luther started 500 years ago but every one of us, including the Lutherans, have traditions and experiences and expectations that put distance between us. We have a long history of using our arguments about God, Jesus, and the Christian faith to keep us from sitting at the same table. During these last 500 years, our churches are not used to coming together. What we’re doing now is still a new thing. We are, as churches, changing our own spaces to become places where we can tell our stories to each other. And one way we do that is, I think, by following, something Martin Luther knew very well. We share ourselves and our Jesus while eating a meal.

A few years after the Reformation started, Luther was given an old monastery as a home. His wife, Katie Luther, had gifts and abilities Martin didn’t. She was the one who could manage the household, oversee their ten employees, keep track of their finances, and she made sure that their 50 person table was open to anyone who stopped by. Luther had a habit of inviting everyone to dinner. Locals and visitors, university professors and students, the rich and the poor, men and women, boys and girls would gather at that table. These dinners were more than just an opportunity to eat delicious food and enjoy a beer that Katie herself brew. Like our own dining room tables, the meal was a place to talk. We know a bit of what was shared around Luther’s table because people would take notes about what was said. Most of the time, students and theologians were trying to pick Luther’s brain, to get him to share a special insight about Jesus and the Christian faith. But for every question about Jesus, there was a story or a confession or a prayer rooted in an encounter with Jesus himself. Someone would admit feeling depressed or sad, sharing some personal demon that kept them awake at night. Another would ask about a piece of dogma or a rule of the church that was causing them some unbearable pain. Over the clatter of dinner plates and the clanging of glasses, the conversation didn’t stay in the “about stages” for very long. Instead, it dug deep into just how hard the faith of everyday life can be. Painful decisions, long periods of living in shadow, the joy of weddings, and even a father changing their child’s diaper – nothing was off limits at that table because, for Luther, nothing about our lives was off limits to God. It wasn’t enough to just know about Jesus. Jesus wanted to be encountered and experienced in the places God revealed him to be. Jesus didn’t want to wait for us to come to him. Instead, he chose to be with us in our everyday, even in those time and places when we are just living our life and don’t see Jesus right there with us. He is there when we shed tears of sorrow and tears of joy. He is there when we cry out in fear or in hope. He’s there when we have a decision to make that we just don’t want to or when everything right now seems easy and carefree. Our encounters with Jesus are not limited to moments that only feel super religiously. Even when we share a meal and tell stories with people who we don’t usually eat with, Jesus makes himself known to each of us. What matters to Jesus isn’t what we know about him. What he wants is for us to know him because he already knows us. When we came into this world, Jesus knew our name before we did. When we were baptized, we were publically acknowledged as belonging to His holy family. And as we grew up in our own families, cultures, traditions, and congregations, we learned stories that made us who we are and we were met by a Jesus telling us how his story, his life, his Cross, and his resurrection makes us into something new. As we celebrate this 500th anniversary of the Reformation and look forward to the years to come, we will keep doing something that is new and is old, all at the same time. We will keep sharing the stories that make us who we are; we will keep opening up our personal spaces so that we can listen to stories that are not our own; we will share bread and drink with all whom God puts in our path; and we will keep holding close to the One who encounters us with a gift of love, a gift of hope, and a gift of faith that frees us to live as Jesus’ people each and everyday.

Amen.

Play

Children’s Sermon: Coloring Community

500th Birthday of the Reformation! Bring a color sheet (page 40) from the resources by NC Lutherans. We’re worshipping with First Congregational (UCC) and Pascack Reformed Church.

So for those who don’t know me, I’m Pastor Marc and I’m the pastor here at this church. I am so happy that all of you are here today. And today is a very special day. We’re doing something we don’t usually do – and all of us are here together, at this church, today. Most Sundays, we’re at our own churches. Some of us are at Pascack Reformed in Park Ridge. Others at First Congregational, United Church of Christ, in Park Ridge. And others are here, at Christ Lutheran Church. We are all part of 3 different church communities – with different traditions and stories and background. But we’re all here – together – to celebrate something that happened a long time ago – that is part of all our histories and where we come from. We’re basically having a party – and like every good party, we have special music and after church we’ll have food and time to talk to each other. But one thing I like to have at a good party is decorations – more than the amazing decorations than we have already. So let’s make a few simple ones.

Pass out clipboards with the page 40 coloring sheet (all the different communities the ELCA is partners with) and crayons.

This is a coloring sheet and I hope everyone got one…good! Now, let’s start coloring – and while we color, let’s talk about it. What do you see on the page? Accept answers. It’s also full of symbols (describe the symbols). Do any of the symbols look familiar to you? Have Pastor Mark and Pastor Larissa share which ones look familiar to them too. Everyone keeps coloring! And there are words in the middle of it – Get someone to read them.

The words are from a letter that tradition says a man named Paul wrote almost 2 thousands years ago. That’s a lot time ago. But these are words from our bible, from our scripture, and this verse describes a little bit about why we are gathered here together. All of us are unique and different from each other. We are part of 3 different churches. We have 3 different traditions that inspire us and help us know God. We all have like different things, have different favorite colors, and come from different families. We are not the same. But I believe that God doesn’t want us to all be the same. God likes that we are different. God likes that we use different colors to color different parts of our coloring sheets. God values you – and can’t wait to see you grow up and, everyday, discover just how much God loves you.

So on this Sunday, when we celebrate this special party about a guy who, 500 years ago, wanted all of us to know the gifts God give us and how God loves us unconditionally, we celebrate what makes us different and special but also what makes us neighbors and friends – Point to the Cross. Jesus is what makes us who we are – and draws us together – and shows us how God loves us. Because all of us are part of God’s people – and belong to God’s holy, diverse, and amazing family.

Thank you for being up here and I hope you have a blessed week!

Each week, I share a reflection for all children of God. The written manuscript serves as a springboard for what I do. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship on Reformation Sunday, 10/29/2017.

Tables. From Pastor Marc – My Message for the Messenger, November 2017 Edition

November is a month about tables. When I left New York City and moved into a place with an actual dining room, one of the first things my family did was buy a table. But we couldn’t buy just any table. We had to buy a table that would work for November. It needed to have space for our immediate family but also for our extended family and friends who will come to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. A dining room table can be more than just a tool we use daily. It’s a piece of furniture filled with the hope that other people will join with us to eat, talk, laugh, and have . joining us. It’s a piece of furniture designed to form, maintain, and grow relationships. And that’s why our sanctuary is focused not on the pulpit, a stage, or even the pews themselves. Everything directs us to the altar, to Jesus’ dining room table.

November is a month about tables and worship is about tables too. Our altar is free standing, connecting us with the earliest Christian practices that we know about. When Jesus’ ministry traveled throughout the Near East, he often ate meals with people who supported him and those who didn’t. The early Christians continued this meal fellowship by hosting the earliest churches in private homes, entered around the meals they ate together. Some of the earliest Christian worship art shows people standing around a table. The meal we eat every Sunday is a meal we eat at Jesus Christ’s invitation. It’s a table where you are invited to connect with this Jesus who lived, died, and rose for you. The table is where our relationship with Jesus is renewed, tended, and cared for. Even if we spent the week feeling God was far away or not even thinking about God at all, when we eat together at the Lord’s table, we are with Jesus. We share in the hope that this feast with the divine will never end.

November is a month about tables and our tables at church will be filled all month long. On November 5, we will light candles in memory of those saints who filled our lives with love and who now rest with Jesus. On November 12, we’ll decorate tables in the church lobby (narthex) with pictures of veterans and honor their service. On November 19, the altar will be decorated in the fresh produce you bring to donate to the Tri-Boro Food Pantry. Come and see how the table of Jesus makes a difference to you and the world.

See you in church!
Pastor Marc

Children’s Sermon: Birth…I mean Baptism Candle

There’s a baptism at 10:30 am. Focus on the baptism candle.

I’m so happy you’re here today!

So today at the 10:30 am we’re going to have a baptism! I’m really excited about it. God loves us always and a baptism is one of the ways we know God does. Little —- is going to be carried up here to the front and in front of family and friends and the entire church, God is going to make a promise to be with —- always. And this is a gift because the creator of the entire universe, of all the stars and planets and blackholes and all creatures and animals and other people is going to say to give little —– a gift of love that will never end, no matter what. And this gift of love is a promise – a promise from God to help us grow in faith and love towards God and each other.

Part of the baptism involves this….what is it? A candle. A candle! Right! Let’s talk about the candle for a bit. Is it small or big? Is it as big as the altar candles? Is it as big as a birthday candles on a cake? Accept all answer. Get the kids to talk about the candle a lot.

There are only a few times when I use candles at home. When there is a birthday, and we need a special cake or cupcake, we need candles on the cake to represent the party. We put the candles on the cake, sometimes having enough candles to represent how old someone is, light then and then what? Sing a song and watch the person blow out the candles. And when a person blows out a candles, we tell them to do what? Make a wish! We usually tell people not to tell their wish – but sometimes I wish for a special present, or for something fun to happen, or I wish that my family and friends have a fun time or are taken care or etc. What other wishes could you make? Accept answers.

Well, this candle is like a birthday candle because it has a wish attached to it too. But instead of a wish that we ask after we blow the candle out – this wish, this prayer we make, this promise God makes to us, is made once we light the candle. Because scripture tells us that Jesus is like a candle in a darkened room or a flashlight in the middle of a night. When we have a hard decision to make, Jesus promises to help us. When we are confused or worried or don’t know what to do, Jesus promises to the help us. When we have a choice to make between what will only help us and what will help other people, Jesus promises to show us what God wants. This candle is a candle that marks our baptism. It’s a birthday candle that celebrates the day God, in a very public place, tells the entire world that we are loved. This candle will be for —- a sign that Jesus will always light his way. And that’s a wish, a prayer, and a promise that we can never blow out.

Thank you for being up here and I hope you have a blessed week!

Each week, I share a reflection for all children of God. The written manuscript serves as a springboard for what I do. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship on the 20th Sunday After Pentecost, 10/22/2017.

Whose Head: What’s In Your Wallet?

Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap him in what he said. So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” They answered, “The emperor’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.​

Matthew 22:15-22

My sermon from the 20th Sunday after Pentecost (October 22, 2017) on Matthew 22:15-22. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

****************************

One of the “fun” questions my wife and I ask each other, usually as we’re coming home from a night out and there’s babysitter waiting at our house, is the question “do you have money?” And that’s a great question because I usually don’t. I don’t really carry cash. Instead, I’m a little old skool and I carry plastic. I came of age when credit card companies would literally throw cards at you during your first week in college. Over time, I discovered which cards gave me the most reward points and which restaurants didn’t overtly complain when my friends and I plopped down a pile of credit cards to pay for a meal. I’ll admit I didn’t always use credit cards the way I should. And there were times when paying the minimum balance was the only thing I could do. But I’m now at a place in my life where a piece of plastic, or an app on my phone connected to that piece of plastic, is how I physically pay for almost everything. And this credit is how I get to live my life. I’m a homeowner because of credit. I drive my mini-van because of credit. And I’m a pastor because credit let me figure out how to pay (and still pay) for seminary. Credit, to me, is a kind of promise. But it’s also more than that because credit creates relationships. I recently learned that credit and the rating agencies that support what credit can do came into being because people with money to lend and people who wanted that money needed a way to trust one another. That trust became a bond, a kind of faith, between people, moneylenders, and more. But this kind of faith comes with a lot of fine print. There are, in theory, rules everyone needs to follow. And when we borrow, we agree to be rated, to have the details of our life sniffed out so that we can be assigned a score, a number, that tells others our worth. Each credit card transaction is really an agreement, establishing a relationship, and using generations of legalese and case law to describe, in theory, how that relationship should work out. So last night, when I used my credit card to pay $1.89 for 2 cans of blacks beans, I entered into a faith-based relationship with Stop’N Shop and VISA – where the terms and conditions of that relationship were laid out in long bit of fineprint that I’ll never read. My regular, everyday life, needed those two cans of beans so I bound myself to an odd kind of faith that generates relationships and assigns value. I didn’t really think of the implications this all means when I inserted my credit card into a machine. But in light of today’s reading from Matthew, maybe I should.

Jesus’ words here are pretty famous. Even my non-Christian friends quote about what to give to the emperor and what to give to God. When we take Jesus’ words out of context, we can make these words mean whatever we want them too. But if we want to listen to what Jesus is saying, I think we should copy Jesus and do what he does in this passage. He doesn’t just talk to the Pharisees and Herodians, these religious and political groups trying to get Jesus into trouble. He asked them for a coin. And when they dig that coin out of their pockets to show him, I imagine Jesus actually taking that coin and holding it in his hand. A denarius is a Roman coin. And like our coins, it’s covered in symbols and images telling a story. We don’t know exactly what coin it was that Jesus held in his hands but it probably looked like one of our quarters. On one side was a picture of the head of Tiberius, the Roman Emperor, and it’s surrounded by words. The words tell us that Tiberius’ dad is Augustus and that Augustus was a god. On the other side of the coin was a picture of a woman, the Roman goddess of peace, holding an olive branch and a spectre. This peace would be a peace Rome would bring to the entire world… once it conquered it. The coin was more than just a piece of metal used to buy things. The coin was making a statement and a promise. The world, it said, belonged to Rome and the son of a god was sitting on its throne. The Roman war machine, it’s way of life, and it’s beliefs were the source of peace, prosperity, and hope in the world. These coins were worth something because Rome, with all it’s power, was worth everything. The worth of everyone in that crowd, according to that coin, was centered on Rome and nothing else. The people gathered around Jesus mattered because Rome defined their worth.

Now, I’ve never used a denarius to pay for anything. I’ve never called myself a Pharisee or a Herodian and I’m sure you haven’t either. We could, if we wanted to, leave Jesus’ words on the page. But what if we didn’t? What if listened to Jesus, took out our dollars, our checkbooks, our credit cards, and actually looked at the claim they make on our lives? My favorite credit card is dark steel gray, with a chip, two foil logos, and my name on the front. On the back is a magnetic strip, another foil logo, my name again, the credit card number, a few phone numbers, a website, and a statement that says “use of this card is subject to the cardmember agreement.” And then right there in the middle, is the place where I signed; where I agreed, in theory, to everything that card represents. I agreed to use it and let companies collect my information. I agreed to let them make judgments based on the information they collect. I agreed to support this even though their judgments about who is worthy of credit and who isn’t is still impacted by the legacy of racism, sexism, ageism, and predatory practices that sometimes help me and sometimes don’t. I even agreed, in some ways, to not even complain when I go through my yearly ritual of canceling my card and getting a new one because it’s number was stolen from me. To live the life I want to live, I am caught up in a system of credit that, because it’s created by humans, is never far from sin. We didn’t create credit or the sin of greed and racism and other systemic issues that infect the idea of credit or our use of it. And I don’t think any of us really asked to have our worth defined on an arbitrary scale from 300 to 850. Yet the value this system gives us can, through our participation in it, end up defining who we value…and who we don’t. Any faith, any tradition, any idea that gives us value impacts how we view the world and our neighbors. The coin the crowd brought to Jesus claimed that their value depended on Rome. But Jesus asked for this coin during the last week of his life while he was teaching in the Temple. Jesus is, at this very moment in the gospel according to Matthew, standing in the place God promised to dwell and he’s already in the shadow of the Cross. Our ultimate worth isn’t defined by our credit rating, or by our wealth, or by the systems of power and authority that we, as human beings, create, maintain, and reinforce without even thinking about them. Our ultimate worth is defined by the One standing there with that coin in his hand and who faces everything that coin represents: our false trust in power and might, our false belief that violence will bring us peace, and our complicity in the ways our life denies what’s life giving for those around us. Jesus takes all of that and heads to the Cross. He dies because of the things we value, but rises to show what God values instead. In our baptism [and even in the baptism of a young child like —-], our old value system, our old way of life, our old way of seeing who is important and who isn’t, is replaced by a faith that has no fineprint. This faith is a gift that says we’re loved. It’s a statement that we matter more than our credit score. Jesus gives us this gift knowing we won’t always know what to do in every situation and that we will, without thinking, participate in systems and a way of life that impacts others in negative way. Yet the gift he gives us is grounded in the choices God makes and the relationship God chooses. Jesus is loyal to us not because we will always be loyal to him – but because Jesus never gives up on those he loves. He loves us. He loves you. He loves this world [And he already loves —-]. We are given a faith that calls us to lean on God, to lean on Jesus, and lean on love even when our life going forward feels unsure, unsafe, and unknown. Jesus’ love is one credit card we can never max out and it will never be canceled on us, no matter what our credit score becomes. And when we lean on Jesus, we can finally discover how much Jesus value’s us and we will stop seeing ourselves and our neighbors as people only worth their 3 number score. We will see ourselves and our neighbors as Jesus sees us – as people worthy of a love that never stops giving.

Amen.

Play

Children’s Sermon: You’re Invited

Bring Pete the Cat: Pete’s Big Lunch.

I’m so happy you’re here today!

So I want to start with a question: what’s your favorite meal of the day? Accept answers. My favorite is…lunch. I love lunch. It’s in the middle of the day. You get to eat all kinds of foods. I love sandwiches, burgers, and more. Lunch is great! And you know who also like’s lunch? Pete the Cat.

We’re not going to read all of this story but there’s a special story about Pete…and his big lunch. Walk through the story. Pete gets hungry because it’s lunch time and he does what I do at lunch time: open the fridge, stare at it, and wonder what I’m going to eat. Pete wants a sandwich so he starts pulling things out. Go through the weird things Pete pulls out. There’s a whole apple. A whole fish. A box of crackers. A jar of mayo. A can of beans. A pickle. All sorts of stuff! This sandwich is whacky and weird and Pete knows it’s going to be delicious. But once he’s done – he’s got a problem. It’s too big for him to eat by himself. So Pete thinks and thinks and thinks…and what do you think he does? How can he get help eating this sandwich? He calls his friends and invites them. Pete invites all his friends to help share his big lunch.

Jesus is going to tell a story today and part of that story involves someone who throws a big party – a big party with lots and lots of food. Like Pete’s lunch, there’s more food than one person could eat in one sitting. The person who is throwing his party is going to invite people who are like him – people who can afford to have a big party with lots of guests. But those guests don’t come. So the host invites everyone – regardless of who they are, what money they make, or if they are friends or not. The host invites everyone to this party – to this place to eat and share a meal – and the host does that because the host can. The host has something amazing to share and invites all different kinds of people to share in it.

Jesus invites us to imagine that his love and his care for us is like being invited to a big party or being invited to some place with a big lunch. Jesus invites us to realize that all of us, regardless of how old we are or what we know or how many times we go to church or if we took a bath last night or whatever – Jesus invites all of us to be with him. And he does this not because we’re perfect or wonderful or get everything right. Jesus invites all of us to his party because that’s just who Jesus is. You right now are part of Jesus’ party. You, right now, get to share in Jesus’ love and hope. You, right now, are part of Jesus’ family and are in his party. And that invitation – changes everything.

Thank you for being up here and I hope you have a blessed week!

Each week, I share a reflection for all children of God. The written manuscript serves as a springboard for what I do. This is from Christ Lutheran Church’s Worship on the 19th Sunday After Pentecost, 10/15/2017.

Speechless: Another Violent Parable

Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests. “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless.Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Matthew 22:1-14

My sermon from the 19th Sunday after Pentecost (October 15, 2017) on Matthew 22:1-14. Listen to the recording at the bottom of the page or read my manuscript below.

****************************

I sometimes wonder if our structure of scripture interferes with scripture itself. As Christians, we chose long ago to split the Bible into the Old Testament and the New. The Old Testament starts with Genesis – with the beginning of the universe – and tells how God choose slaves in Egypt to be the chosen people. The text is filled with songs, heroes, villains, and prophets. As Christians, we see in its pages the foreshadowing of Jesus and the promise that, through the Jewish people, the world will be blessed. And then, chronologically at least, we skip 400 years or so – straight to Jesus’ birth. Even though we only have one bible, we talk about it as if it was two. And when we do that, we invite ourselves, I think, to split God into two as well. The story of ancient Israel is filled with wars and violence so the God of the Old Testament becomes war like, angry, and full of wrath. The God of the New, however, is more comforting; a kind shepherd who is busy watching over fluffy and carefree sheep. It’s sometimes difficult to reconcile the two – to take the God who extends the hours in a day so an army can destroy their enemies with the same God who was born as a tiny little baby in a barn in Bethlehem. By splitting the Bible into two testaments, we’ve inherited a way of though, a structure, that doesn’t always know what to do with this God we split in two. It feels like we’re being asked to make a choice, to decide which version of God we’re going to follow. And we might end up clinging to the “nicer, more loving” version of God that we think only shows up in the New Testament because that’s the God that feels more…safe. God is more comfortable when we split God in two. So knowing that we do that – look at this reading from the gospel according to Matthew again – and tell me: is this a story we can imagine our “nicer” God actually telling?

When I try to personally answer that question, I feel like my answer really depends on my mood. If I’m having a bad day and I feel exhausted by life, I read this story through verse 10 and then just stop. I’ll stick with the welcome and ignore all that harsh and violent stuff. But if I’m feeling a bit angry, or upset, and I know that there are a whole bunch of folks who are doing this Jesus thing wrong, then it’s easier for me to read this parable to the end. I mean, as long as I don’t see myself as one of those who first ignored the king’s invitation, and I’m not that guy without the robe, and I’m not one of the “them,” the chief priests and religious leaders Jesus told this parable to, then I’m okay with Jesus telling this parable because it really has nothing to do with me. Sure, it’s violent and gruesome, but as long as I get to make the claim that I am one of the good guys in this story, then I’m okay splitting God in two, because Jesus’ harsh words are never really meant for me. But Jesus doesn’t let us pretend as if these parables are meant only for other people. As a colleague of mine likes to say, “if the parables Jesus told doesn’t make you uncomfortable, then you need to read them again.” Matthew 22 is a moment when our “nice” God is saying something to us we can’t imagine God actually saying. It’s as if Jesus is breaking down the barriers we build to keep the parts of God we don’t like away from the parts we do. Jesus is keeping us on our toes by not letting us keep God safe. Jesus is showing us that there’s a very real consequence when we come to his party and we’re not wearing the robe that God already gave to us.

One of the things I do as a pastor is visit people in their homes. And when I come by, I sometimes bring communion. I have this little kit with five individual communion cups, a little bottle for wine, and a little brass container filled with wafers. I’ll pull out this kit, set everything up on a table, bench, or even the floor, and then we share the body and blood of Jesus – together. But, sometimes, before this little ritual starts, the silence I need to set everything up is broken by a question. If they’ve never had communion at home before, they’ll wonder what they’re supposed to do. If there is something on their mind, they’ll blurt it out as I place the communion cups on the table to share. And then sometimes, the fact that it’s just the two of us creates a kind of intimacy that causes deeper questions, concerns, and fears to come to light. I’ll discover the last time they had communion and why they haven’t had it since. I’ll discover some broken relationship that’s never been repaired and they’ll ask if Jesus can do what they cannot. And some will wonder if they can even receive communion because, at that moment, they don’t even know what they believe in. When the table is set, when Jesus is right there, ready to serve you, we can sometimes be almost speechless except for the wonder, anxiety, fear, worry, and hope swirling in our souls. I can’t help but hear an unspoken question being asked at that moment. Am I, are we, truly worth Jesus?

And the answer to that is simply…yes. You are worth Jesus. You are worth this Son who lived and died and rose again to say you’re worth all of that and even more. Because the story of God is about a story where God who clings to those whom God choose. And this kind of choice isn’t something you and I get to do. God makes God’s choices. And the God of the Old Testament and the New chooses people and that same God chose you. We know that, as individuals, we were given a special gift, a special robe, making it known that made we are worth this Jesus thing. The robe we wear is the robe God gives to us in our baptism. It’s a promise that you are worthy of the love that God gives you. And it’s also an invitation to trust that this love we are given, this love that we did nothing to earn and that we often struggle against, is a love that truly change everything. We are no longer the ones who get to ignore or fight against the invitation God gives. We are no longer known only as the uninvited who only get to come to the party because others said no. We are already a part of it, eating the finger foods, sitting down for the 12 course meal, and drinking special little drinks with funny little straws. The party God is throwing is a party that is still going on. We don’t get to control the guest list. We don’t get to decide how to keep this party safe for only people like us. Instead, we have to live as if we are truly worth the kind of all inclusive party that can include imperfect people like us. The robe we were given might be invisible to our eyes but it’s something that we have and it’s a robe meant to be worn and lived out. It’s a robe that tells us to, no matter what, just love. When we see fear, we are called to bring hope. When we see suffering, we are called to make the personal sacrifices necessary for others to be healed. And when we are finally face to face with doubt, sorrow, anxiety, and worry; when the soul you see in front of you is in as much turmoil as your own; and you don’t know what to do, or say, and you feel like you have nothing to offer and nothing to share; just give Jesus because Jesus is already there.

Amen.

Play