Faith – Page 65 – Pocket Sized Pastor*

A Reflection on Daniel

The Book of Daniel is a fun book that is hard to interpret and understand. The book begins with stories about Daniel and his friends and ends with Daniel trying to understand the visions he’s received. The book begins shortly after the king of Judah is deposed by Babylon (about 10 years before Jerusalem’s fall). Daniel and 3 friends are, as our reading shares, members of the nobility. They are picked (along with others) out of all the exiles because of their good looks and intelligence. They will be trained to be members of the royal court and to oversee various administrative duties necessary in the Empire. The king provides food and drink for them but Daniel refuses to partake. He, like many immigrants, sees what he eats as a sign of his relationship to where he’s come from and who he is. In Daniel’s day, meat and other food items were typically offered to the gods before the people. Eating this food means being in relationship with those gods. Daniel wants to follow God so he uses food as a way to stay close to God while living in Babylon.

Food stands in for the line we walk on to be with God. And this line is central to the book of Daniel. When we strip away the difficulties in the book (what the visions stand for, why does Daniel describe events that happen hundreds of years after the Exile, and why is the book written in 2 different languages), the line between walking with God and not, shines through. As the story grows, Daniel is confronted by evil personified by the kings of Babylon. The military and cultural might of Babylon tries to drive Daniel away from God. And this line is easy to cross but, with God’s help, Daniel hangs onto God. Even when Daniel is confronted with things he does not understand, like the destruction of Jerusalem, he turns to God in prayer (chapter 9). With God’s love, guidance, and grace, we are able to walk with God no matter what hardships come our way. With God’s help, we are able to see the line we’re called to walk on. And this line with God is, like all lines, infinite in length, showing that evil will never have the final word. God’s journey with us continues through today and beyond.

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 9/18/2016.

Sarcastic Savior: a sermon on playing God’s game.

Then Jesus said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. So he summoned him and said to him, ‘What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.’ Then the manager said to himself, ‘What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.’ So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ He answered, ‘A hundred jugs of olive oil.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.’ Then he asked another, ‘And how much do you owe?’ He replied, ‘A hundred containers of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill and make it eighty.’ And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes. “Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”

Luke 16:1-13

My sermon from the 18th Sunday After Pentecost (September 18, 2016) on Luke 16:1-13.

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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.

& Found: a sermon on being lost and living found.

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable: “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. “Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

Luke 15:1-10

My sermon from the 17th Sunday After Pentecost (September 11, 2016) on Luke 15:1-10.

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A sermon in memory of Linda

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Matthew 5:1-12

My sermon in memory of Linda (September 10, 2016) on Matthew 5:1-12.

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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.

From Pastor Marc – My Message for the Messenger, September 2016 Edition

As I write this, our Genesis Garden team is trying to catch a groundhog. In the garden, by the shed, is a humane trap, with apples and broccoli for bait. Each morning, the trap is checked and the food replenished. The team is committed to capturing this groundhog who dug into our garden from the other side of the building. But this groundhog is proving elusive. It must have learned something by watching the other 3 we caught this season.

Our Genesis Garden and our volunteers do amazing work. They use the gifts we are given (our land and time) to provide fresh vegetables to the Center for Food Action in Englewood. Too many people in Northern New Jersey struggle with food insecurity so we use what we have to make a difference in the lives of people we might never meet. This is Godly work – work that even those of us without green thumbs (i.e. me) can participate in. Planting, weeding, watering, and picking; together, we can do so much to love the world.

But sometimes our plans and expectations run into reality. We can lock up our gardens, mend our fences, build our walls tight, but a groundhog will still find a way in. It’s frustrating and disappointing to see our best intentions fall short even when we did nothing wrong. We might feel, after 3 groundhogs, to just give up. But we don’t because Christ doesn’t give up on us.

We’re starting up a new programming year. Our choirs, Sunday School, education programs, and more are all restarting. Our lives are going to get busy with sports, schools, holidays, jobs, and family events. We’re going to run into the groundhogs of our lives or be someone’s groundhog too. But we don’t stop turning to God, listening to the Spirit, and holding close to Jesus. In Christ, groundhogs are not the final word for our lives; love is. So let’s keep loving, feeding, and caring for ourselves and the world, no matter how many groundhogs come.

See you in church!
Pastor Marc

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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