A reflection on Ezekiel: God the Shepherd

The First Reading is Ezekiel 34:11-16..

Today’s first reading comes after the prophet Ezekiel condemns the false shepherds (i.e. leaders) of Judah. God’s word labels the kings and queens of Jerusalem as false because they do not do what a shepherd does. A shepherd takes care of the sheep but Ezekiel’s contemporaries do not. The leaders take for themselves, giving their sheep nothing. They feed themselves but not those who need it. They do not strengthen the weak, take care of the injured, heal the sick, or bring back those who have strayed. Instead, with force and fear, they rule over others. The sheep (i.e. the people) become “food for all the wild animals.” The people are scattered and alone. No one sees them, except for God.

God promises the people around Ezekiel that God is their shepherd. God will do what the leaders did not do. God will heal the sick, feed everyone, seek out those far away, and bring everyone home. God will reconcile God’s people to God’s promises. God invites the people to experience a promise others will make but only God can fulfill it.

But If we remember where Ezekiel is when this word from God comes to him, we see God making an extraordinary claim. Ezekiel is in Babylon, preaching and teaching among the exiles. Everyone is far from home. God’s House, and their city are gone, are gone. In a culture where wars were more than just nation against nation but gods vs gods, the destruction of Jerusalem appears to show God being defeated. Babylon’s gods won so how can God claim to be Israel’s shepherd?

This question is at the heart of the experience of the Exiles. They expected a certain amount of material success since they were God’s people. But with Jerusalem destroyed, that expectation is gone. Faith, without material support (i.e. wealth, prestige, fame, etc) can feel like we’re doing faith wrong.

But it’s telling that God, in this passage, doesn’t promise wealth. God doesn’t say that God’s people will end up as rock stars or high priced CEO’s. God promises relationship. Faith isn’t about things; faith is about being connected to the source of everything. God makes a promise to people feeling isolated and alone that God sees them, loves them, and will not give up on them. God’s people have God’s presence and no one, not even the gods and military might of Babylon, can take that away from them.

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 9/11/2016.

A Reflection on Ezekiel meeting God

The First Reading is Ezekiel 1:1, 4-9,13-15,18-21,22,26-28. .

When you first met God, did you have a vision like Ezekiel? I’ll admit that I did not. Instead of seeing winged creatures, a giant throne, and an image of the divine full of fire, my experience of Jesus was quieter. When I reflect on my faith journey, I first noticed Jesus in the love of my extended family, through the testimony of friends and strangers, and in the beauty of art, music, and laughter. I met Jesus through the everyday occurrences of the ordinary. The prophet Ezekiel, however, has a different experience.

Ezekiel, like the book of Revelation, is a book filled with images because the prophet speaks through pictures. His prophetic activity probably started around 593 BCE (BC), prior to the fall of Jerusalem. Like Jeremiah, he talked about the coming destruction of the Temple and the Exile. Unlike Jeremiah, however, Ezekiel survives and continues to preach through the early part of the Exile. The population of Jerusalem is in Babylon yet God’s words still come to them.

Ezekiel begins with an image of God. The description of winged creatures and a chariot bring to mind the Holy of Holies, the place in the Temple where the Ark of the Covenant was kept. God is not confined to any one place but is completely other-worldly. God cannot be tamed and is, instead, “holy beyond our understanding and control” (Lutheran Study Bible, 2009). When God appears to Ezekiel, Ezekiel can only see a glimpse of God’s outline and glory. The flames, winds, and fantastic creatures are a reminder that we are not as powerful as we think we are. God can go anywhere and moves seamlessly in any direction. God isn’t trapped in a linear experience of time. God isn’t limited to human expectations or controls. Instead, Ezekiel reminds us that God is God and we are not.

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 9/04/2016.

A Reflection on Lamentations

Our First Reading is Lamentations 1:1-5.

What does mourning sound like? That’s not an easy question to answer. Each time a person experiences loss, we respond to that loss in a unique way. Some of us shed tears while others focus on their jobs or hobbies. Some of us spend much of our days in sadness while others will be surprised when moments of sadness show up suddenly an unexpectedly. We each mourn in our own way and that’s okay. The book of Lamentations is a book of mourning centered on the fall of Jerusalem.

This book is a collection of 5 poems, each 22 lines long. The writer (traditionally identified as Jeremiah) believes that God used the Babylonians to destroy Jerusalem. The writers knows that God can work “good and bad.” But the writer is surprised at one aspect of God: God’s silence. When God’s Temple, God’s Home, was under siege, why was God silent? The writer of Lamentations cries out for the pain to stop and for their suffering to end. The poem ends without an answer on whether God will do that or not.

“To us, lament often sounds like despair, the opposite of faith” (Lutheran Study Bible, 2009) but cries are not the opposite of faith. Crying out to God is a prayer. The very act itself trusts that we will be heard. And we will be heard because it is in the places where we would least expect God (in suffering, pain, catastrophe, and in the cross) where God is clearly present. “Lamentations shows us that in the most difficult of times and places, God is present and hears our desperate cries for help.”

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 8/28/2016.

Let’s Hear It For Love: a sermon on Jesus, love, and being vulnerable.

On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.

When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, ‘Give this person your place,’ and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher’; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” He said also to the one who had invited him, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Luke 14:1,7-14

My sermon from the 12th Sunday After Pentecost (August 28, 2016) on Luke 14:1,7-14.

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So when we’re in our cars, who picks the music that we hear? The rule, in my household, is that whoever’s driving picks the music we’re listening too. It’s a system that usually works but I’ll admit that, when I pick the music, my habits can annoy the other passengers in the car. I’m not the type of person who just hits play and let the music flow. I’m the type of person who skips around. Even when I put on my playlist labeled “all-time favorites,” I can’t just hit “play.” I have to search for the music that is speaking to me today – and that sometimes means listening to the first 3 seconds of 20 songs before I find the one I want to hear. And one song I keep wanting to hear lately is from the an older pop-punk band called the Smoking Popes. They’re from Chicago, they still tour, and they mix the power and energy of punk music with the crooning vocal style of a Tony Bennett or Frank Sinatra. And the song I keep searching for is from 1993 and is called “Let’s Hear It For Love.” That’s an uplifting title for a song. That’s that a title that seems to celebrate the bliss and passion and positive experiences love can bring. But, once the vocalist starts singing, we hear a song centered on the other side of love. It begins with the lines “Let’s hear it for heartache. Let’s hear it for pain.” And after we hear the chorus a couple of times, the main there for the entire song comes through: “Let’s hear it for letting someone totally ruin your life. Let’s hear it for love.” That’s a bit depressing. But I value this song because it points to something that is necessary for love: it points to vulnerability. It’s impossible to truly love unless we risk that this relationship might leave us with a broken heart. 

And that, I think, is at the center of Jesus’ words today. Jesus is at a dinner party. He walks through the front door and everyone, immediately looks at him. Now when I walk into a room and everyone stares at me, that makes me feel pretty uncomfortable. But not Jesus. He, instead, stares right back. He watches as people where they are going to sit. He notices that some are picking seats next to their friends so they would have some to talk too. Others don’t really care where they sit as long as they don’t sit next to that one person they can’t really stand. And some are picking, what I would call, the “cool kids” spots and others are elsewhere, sitting at the 1st century version of the kids table. The people at this dinner party might not know everyone’s name but they know where everyone is supposed to sit. It’s basically like…high school…with a social dynamic that still matters in our lives even if high school happened to us years ago. This dinner party is more than just a few friends hanging out. It’s a place where people network, where they talk, and where the cool kids know everyone will be sucking up to them for some kind of favor or influence. And those uncool kids, well, they know they’re going to be asked to do something to prove why they should be there. This party is a social engagement where everyone is trying to figure out just what they can get from each other. 

And then there’s Jesus… who doesn’t seem to follow the rules. He leans over to his friend,  to the one who invited him, and tells him a very un-high school thing to do: When hosting a dinner party, don’t just invite your friends. Don’t invite someone special. Don’t invite anyone who could ever invite you to a dinner party of their own. Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. Invite those who might never have a room to host a party in or extra food to share. Invite those who no one expects to be there – those who can never give you anything – because that’s what the kingdom of God looks like. 

The more I sat with this text…the more the word “invite” got to me. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has invited people to events knowing, or secretly praying, that they wouldn’t come. The word ‘invite’ can, in some ways, get us off the hook because the people we ‘invite’ can always say no. But Jesus isn’t saying just invite the poor – he’s saying they’ll come. They’ll be there. And when they come, don’t expect they’ll know all the rules we know. They might not know where to sit, they might not know which fork to use, and they might talk about things they’re not supposed to. They might share stories or experiences that don’t match our own or challenge everything we believe. And if they are differently abled or injured or incapacitated in some way, they might not eat the foods we want to serve. They might not even be able to chew at all. But we promised them a dinner party – so that’s what we do. A dinner party for those who can’t give us anything is a dinner party for the vulnerable. And the only way we can throw that kind of party is if we become vulnerable too. 

God’s kingdom isn’t a kingdom centered on what we can get. It’s center on what we can give. When we sit at the table with someone who is different from us, we’re invited to have a relationship with them. We’re called to get to know them, to understand their fears, their struggles, their joys, and what makes them who they are. And that knowing only works if we take a risk and let this other person, this vulnerable person, make us vulnerable too. At this kind of table, there is nothing that we can get. There is nothing this other person can give us that will improve our social capital, our standing among our peers, or make us look good in the eyes of our friends. At this table, our expectations aren’t enough to set the rules because we’re sitting with the unexpected. For that relationship to fully matter, we have to take the risk of being vulnerable. 

And that’s God’s table. God’s table is a table of vulnerability. It’s a table where risk happens and where love…well…where love doesn’t run away from heartache. It’s a table where love doesn’t hide when it’s confronted by pain and where love doesn’t stop when someone ruins our life. Love, at God’s table, just keeps loving because that’s who God is. God is love which means God takes risks. God doesn’t run away from vulnerability. God sits, at that same table, risking pain, risking heartache, risking ruin. And we know this because when Jesus invited his friends around that one table for his last supper, he didn’t only invite the good, the solid, and the most faithful ones. He ate with the one who would betray him. He shared bread with the ones who would abandon him. And he had a drink with the ones who would doubt Mary when she told them what she saw. God’s table isn’t for the strong; it’s for the vulnerable. God’s dinner party isn’t for the perfect; it’s for all. We are not here to limit the possibilities of God’s kingdom but to see how God’s kingdom show us all of what’s possible with God. So let’s take a risk. Let’s be vulnerable. And in everything we do, everything we say, and in everything we share – let’s do that one hard thing – and that’s love. 

Amen.  

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A Reflection on Jeremiah 32

Our First Reading is Jeremiah Jeremiah 32:1-2,6-15.

Jerusalem is under siege. The armies of Babylon have surrounded the city. The prophet Jeremiah is imprisoned by the King of Judah because Jeremiah keeps saying “Jerusalem is going to fall.” The king questions Jeremiah, and he responds with the story in our reading today. Jeremiah’s cousin needs to sell a piece of property. He comes to Jeremiah with an offer. Jeremiah, as a member of this extended family, has the opportunity to buy the land first. If he buys it, the land stays within the family. Jeremiah buys the property, and he goes into detail on how he legally makes the sale happen. The deeds are stored in a jar so that it will last a long time. In the middle of a war, with Babylon storming the gates, Jeremiah buys a piece of land. The Kingdom of Judah and all its laws about property rights are about to fall, yet Jeremiah buys a piece of land. Judah’s way of life is over and, yet, Jeremiah buys a piece of land. The future looks bleak but Jeremiah doesn’t let fear rule him. He knows the kingdom will fall but he trusts God’s promises more.

Jeremiah is not a beloved prophet. The kings of Judah do not like this man of God who says that the Kingdom is going to fall. But every promise of destruction is met by the promise of God’s future. Babylon might destroy God’s temple but they cannot destroy God’s promises to God’s people. The inhabitants will be sent into wile but God’s relationship with them will not end. God will go into Exile with the people. God will be with them, no matter what. And, as the wheels of time move and the world changes and grows, God will rework God’s people to bring them into a future where injustice, pain and tears are no more. And that’s why Jeremiah buys a piece of land. He’s doubling down on God’s promise even if he doesn’t see the promise fulfilled in his lifetime.

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 8/21/2016.

A Reflection on Jeremiah

Our First Reading is Jeremiah 1:4-10.

There are very few “kind” passages from the book of Jeremiah which is full of the words attributed to that prophet. He was only a “boy” when God called him to be a prophet, around the year 626 BCE (BC). This was a very chaotic time for the kingdom of Judah. War was everywhere. Political powers such as Egypt, Assyria, and Babylon battled for supremacy, installing puppet kings in Judah and throughout the area. By the year 605, Babylon defeated Egypt and Assyria in battle. Babylon was left as the supreme military and political authority in the Near East. In 597 BC, the first exile of leaders from Jerusalem took place. That was followed by a much larger exile 10 years later after Jerusalem rebelled against Babylonian authority. Jeremiah died the following year.

In such a violent and vicious time, it would be surprising to find may words of comfort from God’s prophet. However, even in the first chapter, the ground for hope is laid. God comes to a little boy, appointing him as a prophet for Jerusalem and all the nations of the world. We tend to romanticize our view of children, viewing them as special, precious, and innocent. And they are. But in Jeremiah’s time, childhood wasn’t romanticized. Children had few legal rights, many died before the age of five, and they worked in the field as soon as they were able. Children were powerless and it’s a child that God calls to bring God’s word to kings. God promises to give Jeremiah the words he needs. Jeremiah will preach a word to all those in power and authority, showing them their shortcomings and bringing God’s call for justice. God’s word will pull injustice down and, in the same instant, plant the seeds for reconciliation, love, and hope.

By the end of Jeremiah’s life, his messages of doom were matched by his messages of hope. He would never live to see the restoration of Jerusalem but he would proclaim that God does not give up on God’s people. God will come to all of us, in many different ways, to form us into the people God wants us to be. God’s desire is for the end of fear, injustice, and hopelessness. That what’s God begins in us through our relationship with Jesus Christ. And what God begins in us, we are called to do in all that we say and do.

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 8/14/2016.

A Reflection on Isaiah 42

Our First Reading is Isaiah 42:1-9.

Our Year with the Bible has brought us to Isaiah, the longest of Scripture’s prophetic works. About 1/3 of the Bible is associated with prophets: men and women who speak God’s word to kings and queens. The prophets imagine the world as God would have it be and remind political leaders their responsibility to practice justice and peace. Many scholars believe that Isaiah contains the words of several different prophets, spanning the fall of the Northern Kingdom of Israel in 722 BC (BCE) through the Exile (587-583) and after. The first 39 chapters are centered around the collapse of the Northern kingdom and the threat to Jerusalem caused by the Assyrian empire. Chapters 40-55 are told by a people who is in Babylon, exiled from Jerusalem. The people watched Babylon destroy their city and God’s Temple. They are far from home and do not know if they’ll ever return home. They are stuck, weak and powerless, wondering where God is.

What’s striking about these words from Isaiah 42 is that they are delivered to a people who are in exile. The Israelites are oppressed yet they are called God’s servant. They cannot go home yet God calls them to bring forth justice. The people’s faith and culture have suffered a deep blow when Jerusalem fell yet God promises them God’s spirit. The people hearing these words for the first time would have identified themselves as the servant. As God’s chosen people, God is their king and they are God’s servant. These verses affirm their relationship to God even though they saw God’s Temple fall. Even in Babylon, God is with God’s people and God’s people have a job to do.

So what is that job? God is calling people to reorder “social life and social power so that the weak (widow and orphans) may live a life of dignity, security, and well-being.” (Walter Brueggemann, Isaiah 40-66, Westminister 1998, 42). The people of Israel are vulnerable. Babylon has power over them, breaking weak reeds and dimming candle wicks because that’s how power over others works. But God is taking God’s broken people and telling them to “reorder social relations for the sake of the vulnerable.” The community is no longer purposeless and isolated. They are called to be a servant for justice in the world.

As Christians, we see Jesus in Isaiah 42:1-4. When the disciples of John the Baptist asks Jesus who he is, Jesus points to the blind gaining sight, the sick being cured, and the prisoners being sent free (see Luke 4 where Jesus quotes Isaiah 61 but it is similar to Isaiah 42). Christ’s mission to reconcile the world through love, sacrifice, and mercy rather than brute force or war, is our call too. The servant isn’t reduced to one person or one identity. All of God’s people are called to be God’s servant even if they feel powerless, weak, and find themselves far from home.

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 8/07/2016.

Song of Songs

Our First Reading is Song of Songs.

Today’s first reading is from Song of Songs (or the Song of Solomon) which is exactly what it sounds like. It’s a love song filled with vivid imagery, physical language and “amorous” content. The two main characters are obviously in love with other, each longing to see and physically connect with each other. It’s a biblical book that catches what love can feel like. This is a book that captures our emotions and experiences. To read the Song of Songs is to see love, longing, and relationships expressed in poetry. So why is this book in the Bible?

The Song of Songs is a book that rarely mentions God. It is not a text that si concerned with the amazing feats of power or that describes what proper worship of God might look like. There are no stories about what God’s justice looks like or how we are to take care of each other. There is no narrative, plot, or even characters with names. Song of Songs is a book that stands almost on its own, distantly related to the books around it. But that’s okay. Not every piece of scripture is designed to tell a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. Like the Psalms, Song of Songs captures human emotions. As human beings, we feel. There are times when we are angry, sad, or incredibly happy. And there are also times when we might be in love. Love is an experience, emotion, and a reality that is hard to put into words. There is no one definition in the dictionary that can describe the fullness of what love is. Love needs poetry to unpack what it looks like, feels like, and what it can represent. And that’s what Song of Songs does. It shows love.

We often about God being love and I often preach about our need to love. Song of Songs unwraps a little of what can look and feel like. But love isn’t limited to just our emotions or our physical longing. Love is a way of being that challenges us and changes how we view the world. The love we see in Song of Songs is the same love that brought Jesus into the world. The desire for connection and relationship is the same love that drove Jesus to preach, teach, and walk to the cross. The love God used to save the world is the same love we are called to share with our spouses, friends, and even strangers. Love isn’t just a noun; love is a verb and the Song of Songs shows just how active love is. 

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 7/31/2016.

A Reflection on Ecclesiastes

Our First Reading is Ecclesiastes 1:1-11.

What do we know about Ecclesiastes? The book is written from the point of view of an elder, known as the Teacher. The Teacher is traditionally identified as Solomon, Israel’s wisest king. The Teacher is reflecting on their life, sharing what he has learned. He spent his time striving for riches, pleasure, success, and wisdom but that only brought frustration. he longs for fulfillment. The Teacher laments that there is much in life that is hard to understand and explore and is skeptical about traditional answers. The Teacher is wondering just what the world is about.

A teacher I had in seminary explained Ecclesiastes in this way. The book assumes that life moves in a circle. As human beings, we are born, we live, and we did. Our life cycle happens only once but the cycle of human life happens over and over again. God, however, isn’t trapped in our life cycle. Instead, God chooses to intersect our lives at a 90 degree angle. God meets us, abruptly disrupting our lives to show us the love and care God has. This is also one way to describe Jesus’ life among us. God sent God’s Son to live in our cycle of life. By doing so, God disrupted our life with God’s love, care, and grace. Our cycle restricts our knowledge, making it seem that riches, pleasures, and success are how we find fulfillment and meaning. But God disrupts our expectation, showing that meaning comes through our relationship with God. Christ showed how God’s love interrupts our expectations. By loving like God does, we can interrupt others’ expectations.

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 7/24/2016.