Category: Sermons

Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”

Luke 12:13-21

My sermon from the 11th Sunday After Pentecost (July 31, 2016) on Luke 12:13-21.

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The words of the Teacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem.
Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher,
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
What do people gain from all the toil
at which they toil under the sun?
A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains for ever.
The sun rises and the sun goes down,
and hurries to the place where it rises.
The wind blows to the south,
and goes round to the north;
round and round goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns.
All streams run to the sea,
but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
there they continue to flow.
All things are wearisome;
more than one can express;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
or the ear filled with hearing.
What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done;
there is nothing new under the sun.
Is there a thing of which it is said,
‘See, this is new’?
It has already been,
in the ages before us.
The people of long ago are not remembered,
nor will there be any remembrance
of people yet to come
by those who come after them.

Ecclesiastes 1:1-11

My sermon from the 10th Sunday After Pentecost (July 24, 2016) on Luke 11:1-11.

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Now as they [Jesus and his disciples] went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:38-42

My sermon from the 9th Sunday After Pentecost (July 17, 2016) on Luke 10:38-42.

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After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. He said to them, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, “Peace to this house!” And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, “The kingdom of God has come near to you.” But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, “Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.”

‘Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.’

The seventy returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!’ He said to them, ‘I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.’

Luke 10:1-11,16-20

My sermon from the 7th Sunday After Pentecost (July 3, 2016) on Luke 10:1-11,16-20.

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What does the kingdom of God look like? That’s the question – that’s gnawing on me today. And it’s seems fitting, on this July 4th weekend, to think about kingdoms. This is the weekend when my social media feeds are filled with images of the founding fathers and mothers wearing sunglasses with the caption “we Brexit’d before it was cool.” We are celebrating the new future that some men and women imagined for themselves in 1776, a future away from the British Kingdom. So Jesus’ words about God’s kingdom isn’t strange to us but…it’s still a little odd because we don’t have kings. We don’t live in a kingdom. That’s a word that belongs in  fantasy books and tv shows like Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. Words like emperors, kings, queens, and lords – are words that are always at arm’s-length from us because we don’t live with, or under, them. There’s a gap between us and Jesus’ words, a distance between what’s spoke out-loud and the meaning that we readily grab onto. We live embedded in the American ideal where all people, through the power of voting and representation, have some say in how the government rules and functions. Even when such an ideal fails to embrace everyone who calls the United States home, we react almost instinctively against anything that takes that power away. When we watch state governments gerrymander congressional districts so that one side always wins or when they pass laws that unduly target the voting rights of African-Americans, Hispanics, or even spouses who took their partners’ last names when they married, these violations become personal because we know what’s being taken away. We know that another person’s authority is being removed. We understand that because that’s what we live. But the ideal kingdom – the word as Jesus is using it today – is different because a kingdom is centered around the king, around the ruler. In Jesus’ day, the Roman Emperor was on top, with appointed governors and small puppet kings serving as his representation on the ground. Power didn’t trickle down from the top because power, and authority, was stuck at the top. The people listening to these stories of Jesus – the people who would welcome these disciples that Jesus sent out – they were part of a kingdom where authority and power belonged to someone else. The disciples and their future hosts – they just lived there. So when Jesus sends out his disciples, two by two, to go ahead of him – he reminds each of them that something extraordinary is happening. These disciples aren’t only going to share stories about Jesus with people they haven’t met yet. These disciples are giving voice and embodying just what the kingdom of God is. They are bearing witness to God’s kingdom – God’s authority – God’s power – entering our kingdoms and sharing a vision of what God’s kingdom actually looks like. 

And that vision – involves food. 

Now, Jesus gave this set of 70 disciples – or 72 – depending on the translation – special instructions. Unlike the 12 apostles who were sent out earlier, Jesus offers these 70 a more detailed briefing. He tells them to bring nothing with them – not even a bag or an extra pair of sandals. And when they arrive in the place where they are going, the first words out of their mouth is “peace.” That’s what these 70 are bringing. But this peace is more than just a feeling of peace, they’re not just bringing a sense of calm.  Jesus is telling to them to bring actual peace into the homes they’re visiting. And this kind of peace is only happens when community, and relationships, are formed. The barriers, fears, mistrust, and anxieties that put distance between us and others – Jesus’ disciples are to bridge that reality with His peace. For peace to happen, a connection between people and Jesus is being offered – and that connection happens best around meals. 

But what kind of meals? The disciples are told to sit at the table – and eat whatever is given you. The host is invited to give these visitors whatever they have. Now those words “just eat it” are…well…terrifying if we’re a picky eater. These are words my parents used on me when I would stare, blankly, at the food that they placed in front of me. The disciples aren’t invited to pack their own lunch or pick and chose something they like from a menu. They’re told to just eat. These disciples are bringing peace, they’re bringing connection, but they’re also asked to participate in that relationship as well. They are invited to receive what is offered in return, to eat something strange and different, and embrace everything that meals offer. Meals are always more than just food. They’re events where people share conversation and share each other. The disciples will learn who is sick and who is suffering. They’ll learn who is celebrating and who is concerned about the future. The disciples will discover who their hosts really are. Their hosts are not kings and queens. They are people living in someone else’s kingdom. But Jesus cares about who they are and the lives they are living because they are living in God’s creation. The disciples during these meals will share Jesus and, in the process, discover what God is doing in the lives of the people they’re meeting. 

So peace, food, connection with God and with each other – that’s a bit of what God’s kingdom looks like. This peace is a peace that forces us to meet someone we don’t know and for both of us to lose our fear of the other. This connection involves seeing the job that Jesus has given all of us – to participate in what God is doing in the world and form relationships with all who God loves. And this food…well…this food is everything. The food Jesus tells his disciples to eat isn’t just the food that’s local to Israel or the Middle East. Even though Jesus’ earthly ministry stays pretty local, Jesus isn’t telling his disciples to only eat the food that they know. The number 70 is more than a number; it’s an old, biblical, symbol that represents all the nations other than the Jewish people. 70 disciples are sent to visit 70 nations. All the disciples are sent to visit all people. And when we get there, when we enter their homes and bring God’s peace, we’re going to embrace celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain’s motto and  “try anything, at least once.” Because when we eat, we recognize differences and what makes us different. But we also see that our kingdoms and nations do not compare to God’s kingdom of love and care. In Christ’s cross, God brings all of us into the One body of Jesus Christ. And it’s through this one body of Christ, that God’s kingdom of love, connection, peace and hope is shared through all of us. This is God’s vision for the world. This is what God’s kingdom is all about. The kingdom of God is here – and we’re to live that kingdom out, right now. 

Amen.

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Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me” — for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss.

Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.

When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.

Luke 8:26-39

My sermon from the 5th Sunday After Pentecost (June 19, 2016) on Luke 8:26-39.

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So as I sat down to write this morning’s manuscript, the word “tombs” is the one that jumped out at me. It’s a word that is just a little too fresh for me today. Yesterday, this community of faith stood among the tombs and graves of Westwood Cemetery to bury Christopher, one of our own. As I walked through that graveyard, my eyes scanned the manicured lawn, stared at the beautifully carved tombstones, and noticed that many of these graves are still visited. There is something very pristine and clean about many modern graveyards. We expect them to look like a cross between a golf course and secluded public park. We want to know that this place – this sacred geography – is actually cared for and maintained. So as I passed by and read the surnames on the tombstones – noticing the germans, the italians, the brits, and the occasional korean and chinese – my mind couldn’t help but think about another 49 graves being filled this weekend. Last Sunday morning, as we worshipped together in this piece of sacred geography, the news of the hate-filled terrorist attack at Pulse Nightclub in Orlando was making itself known. By the time I started 9 am worship, we heard rumors that there could be a dozen people dead. By the time I was in the middle of my sermon at the 10:30 service, that number was near 50 with another 53 wounded. The vast majority of them were young, lesbian, gay, bi, or transgender, and, like me, latinos, latinas, and people of color. They were there to experience Latin night – to hear Bachata, Reggaeton, Salsa – all the music that makes my hips sway and my feet move even if I’ve never heard the song before. The latin@ pulse is something we’re just born with – and, last Sunday morning, 49 pulses were cut short because of who they were, who they loved, and by the demons that fed one man’s evil. So today there are 49 new graves in clean and pristine graveyards with Mexican, Puerto-Rican, and Dominican surnames on the tombs. 

But the manicured and well cared for look that we know and expect is not where Jesus finds himself in today’s gospel reading. Jesus has crossed the sea of Galilee, heading to the other side where Gentiles lived, to a place founded by Alexander the Great. Instead of synagogues, in the center of the city are giant temples dedicated to Greek and Roman gods. The fields outside aren’t filled with sheep; they’re filled with pigs. Jesus is out of his Jewish-comfort zone, in the land of the others, and making waves in a place he shouldn’t. He’s going to meet and miggle with the wrong kind of people. And it’s when he steps off the boat – setting his foot on the shore – he runs into this man from the tombs. 

Now, what kind of tombs does this man live in? I don’t believe we’re suppose to think he lives in the intentionally well-cared graveyards of today. What comes to mind is a graveyard that dark, dank, and downright spooky. His tombs belong in some B-rated horror movie. And this man does too. He comes to Jesus dirty, unkempt, and totally naked. I imagine his skin is covered in dirt and grime and broken chains as bracelets are around his wrists. He lives where the dead live, he’s surrounded by pigs,many he’s tormented by unclean spirits. He’s completely unclean. This man that Jesus encounters isn’t just physically repulsive, according to Jesus’ own tradition, he’s spiritually repulsive too. Once Jesus steps off the boat – and sees this man – he knows all of that. He knows exactly who this man is and what Jesus is suppose to do. But before a word is said, before a conversation has started, and even before the man sees Jesus – Jesus orders those unclean spirits out. 

Now, the man tries to get out of this. He tells Jesus to leave him alone. He doesn’t ask for healing. Instead, he asks to remain with his demons – to be alone – to be kept away from the community. The demons we see in scripture are not just evil beings. They’re more than B-movie terrors. They spend their time breaking the relationships between God and people. They want to keep their victims isolated and alone. And the only way to do that is to infect more than just individuals. These demons infect entire communities too. They make it so that the person who is different is sent to live chained and bound in the tombs. Jesus is doing more in this story than healing one man and destroying an almost comical amount of bacon. Jesus is changing the sacred geography of the land of the Gerasenes. The man who lived among the dead is told to go into the city of the living and tell God’s story. He’s heading home to a place full of different gods, different idols, and people so distracted by their busy-ness,they can’t even notice what God is doing. Jesus took a place of sacred difference, of tombs and cities, of relationships and isolation, and Jesus created a new space for healing and connection. The land of the Gerasenes – the land of the Gentiles and the unclean – is given a new destiny and purpose. The manicured place of living is mixed with the dark and dank of the tombs. And that…scares everyone. 

When Jesus set sail across the Sea of Galilee – he was on a journey of shouldn’ts. He shouldn’t have gone, he shouldn’t have stepped onto the shore, and he shouldn’t have interacted with that unclean man in the tombs. That kind of sacred geography is centered in shouldn’ts. But Jesus isn’t about shouldn’ts. When he shows up, the sacred geography of every place changes. The places we claim to be cities of life and the places we claim to be cities of death – that difference is undone. All places are opportunities for life. All places are sacred to God. The inside/outsider narrative we setup is replaced with a narrative of God’s desire for love and healing; for God’s narrative of new life found in new and unexpected relationships. I don’t know what the full response to the attack in Orlando should be . My heart is still too broken – too full of grief at the loss of my Latin@ sisters and brothers. But I do know that Jesus has changed the sacred geography of all places. Even a place where terrible things happen can be a place where life comes. Every shore, every field, every mountain, every country, and every city is called to be a place of healing. Jesus has already done the hard work of going where he shouldn’t – going to the land of the others, eating and drinking with sinners, forgiving the sins of the unforgivable, and walking to die on the Cross. Through Jesus, healing has already begun. We already know what Jesus has done. The question for us, though, is just how much healing are we going to try to bring too?

Amen.  

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[Jesus said] “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.”

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

John 14:1-6

My sermon to honor the memory of C. (June 18, 2016) on John 14:1-6.

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One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.’ Jesus spoke up and said to him, ‘Simon, I have something to say to you.’ ‘Teacher,’ he replied, ‘speak.’ ‘A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’ Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’ Then turning towards the woman, he said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’ Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’

Soon afterwards he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him, as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.

Luke 7:36-8:3

My sermon from the 4th Sunday After Pentecost (June 12, 2016) on Luke 7:36-8:3. We celebrated a First Communion at the 10:30 am worship.

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