Vanity: What’s our Worth and what’s our meaning?

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.

Play

Distracted: Mary and Martha is not about Mary VS Martha

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.

Play

Do: a sermon on the Good Samaritan after Baton Rouge, Falcon Heights, and Dallas.

Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’ He answered, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.’ And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’

But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’ Jesus replied, ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.” Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’ He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’

Luke 10:25-37

My sermon from the 8th Sunday After Pentecost (July 10, 2016) on Luke 10:25-37.

Play

Other Food: a sermon on what the Kingdom of God might look like.

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.

Play

We Didn’t Start the Fire – a sermon on Jesus, rejection, and discipleship.

When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set towards Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’ But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village.

As they were going along the road, someone said to him, ‘I will follow you wherever you go.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’ To another he said, ‘Follow me.’ But he said, ‘Lord, first let me go and bury my father.’ But Jesus said to him, ‘Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.’ Another said, ‘I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.’ Jesus said to him, ‘No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.’

Luke 9:51-62

My sermon from the 6th Sunday After Pentecost (June 26, 2016) on Luke 9:51-62. Blessing of the Animals Sunday.

*****

Rev. Marc A. Stutzel at Christ Lutheran Church, Woodcliff Lake, NJ on June 26, 2016 

6th Sunday After Pentecost. Luke 9:51-62. We didn’t start the Fire. Blessings of the Animals. 

So, I’d like to make a confession to all of you: I would never make it as a Broadway actor. Now I know this not only because I can’t really sing, or dance, or memorize lines. I don’t think I  could make it on Broadway because I’m not sure I could handle the rejection. From the actors I know and the stories I’ve read, talent for Broadway is important, but how we handle rejection matters even more. Going into an open audition, with headshots, and resumes, and demo tapes, and all that – that seems doable. But having to do that day in, and day out, and praying that today I would I get that elusive “call-back” for another round of try-outs – that would be hard. To experience that kind of rejection over and over and over again would be soul crushing, frustrating, and exhausting – which is why I sympathize with the reaction the disciples’ had when they experienced rejection in our reading from Luke today. They entered a village of the Samaritans, serving as the advance team to prepare the village for the arrival of Jesus. But when Jesus finally came, the village refused to receive him. They rejected him. The Samaritans see Jesus focused on Jerusalem, so they don’t let him in. 

Now, their rejection of Jesus isn’t surprising. Jesus is heading to Jerusalem, the home of the Temple, the center of Jewish worship. Jerusalem for Jesus and the other Jews like him, is where God is; it’s the place God calls home. But the Samaritans disagreed. They believe God is also located at the ancient holy site of Mount Gerzaim. Jesus’ turn towards Jerusalem is a turning away from what the Samaritans believe. So the behavior of the villagers isn’t surprising – but what the disciples want to do, is. 

James and John, after spending time and energy to prepare the village for Jesus’ arrival, get mad. They go through the stories they know and they remember something that Elijah the prophet, once did. Soldiers from the old Northern Kingdom of Israel, the area that became Samaria, tried to force Elijah to visit the king. The soldiers were from the wrong part of town, worshiped God the wrong way, and they had the gall to assume they could get a prophet of God to do what they want. So Elijah burned them up. Jesus’ disciples, trying to make sense of why the Samaritans would not receive Jesus, twist bits of this old story to give meaning behind what they are experiencing now. James and John asks Jesus to embrace their anger and do what Elijah did. 

But Jesus says no. 

Which is a really great response. This is the Jesus we like to preach and share – the Jesus who doesn’t rain fire and brimstone on those who reject him and who doesn’t encourage violence as a response to difference or disagreement. This Jesus – isn’t a Jesus that the church has always followed. In our long and bloody history, we’re too often like James and John when it comes to engaging with people who don’t believe like we do. And I’m not sure the church has repented enough when it comes to the violence we’ve inflicted and caused. Jesus tells his disciples that our job isn’t to seek and destroy. We’re called, instead, to save and heal. 

But what does that healing look like? Well, not raining fire from above on people and communities we don’t like or agree with is probably a start. We also need to work hard so our feelings of rejection don’t cause us to reject others too. But there’s more to following Jesus than just being kind. After Jesus rebuked James and John, their journey towards Jerusalem causes them to run into 3 unnamed people who want to follow Jesus. And Jesus…well…what he says is harsher than what’s come before. One person makes a promise that they will follow Jesus but Jesus makes clear that this journey is not a comfortable one. The journey to Jerusalem doesn’t include the comforts, security, and protection of home. Another follower comes but first wants to bury their father. Jesus tells him that the journey to Jerusalem trumps family loyalty and responsibility. Finally a third comes willing to follow Jesus, but before he goes, he wants to tell his family goodbye. Jesus, again, says “no.” None of these three followers say anything unreasonable. None of them say anything wrong. But Jesus’ rebuke to each of them is harsh. His sayings are strong and they sting because, in the words of Mother Mitties DeChaplain, Jesus “simply refuses to blunt the sharply pointed reality that to share in the work of Jesus is to share in his sacrifice.” Jesus’ face is set to Jerusalem. Jesus knows where he’s going. He knows that following him isn’t about being comfortable. The journey to Jerusalem involves a cross. 

When it comes to rejection – Jesus’ words seem to be rejecting those who can’t fully commit to him. And For those of us already on the inside, who already feel comfortable in our faith, Jesus’ words appear like a pat on the back. We’re already following Jesus – so that must mean we’ve got something others don’t. In the text today, Jesus seems to be holding some kind of audition for those who want to be on his side. But even in this audition-like atmosphere, where these three followers offer their best monologue on why they should star in Jesus’ play, not one of them actually leaves. Their words are rejected – but the text doesn’t say that these followers were cast away from his side. Jesus doesn’t say these harsh words, trying to reject some who wish to follow him. Instead, he’s sharing what being a follower of Jesus looks like. Being a disciple isn’t easy. Being a disciple is more than just being kind. Following Jesus involves a dying – a dying of all our impulses and sin that make us see the world differently than God sees it. The differences we have with each other, the boundaries we define to decide who is in, who is out, and who should be rejected, is not part of God’s agenda, nor does it have a place in God’s kingdom. What God values is what Jesus is about to do and it involves a lot of “self-sacrifice, self-giving, [and] self-forgetfulness.” Being a follower of Jesus means we will be uncomfortable and we will end up in places and with people who we don’t understand and who don’t understand us. But the call to love is bigger than our call to reject because being a disciple involves a cross – a cross that we take up daily because Jesus took up his cross for all. 

Amen.

Play

Demons – a sermon on Jesus, tombs, and life after the violence at Pulse, Orlando.

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.

******

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.  

Play

A funeral sermon for C.

[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.

Play

Which Were Many: A sermon on Jesus the Critic.

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.

Play

Sat Up: A sermon on Jesus, seeing, and someone’s first communion.

Soon afterwards he went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’ Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, ‘Young man, I say to you, rise!’ The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us!’ and ‘God has looked favorably on his people!’ This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.

Luke 7:11-17

My sermon from the 3rd Sunday After Pentecost (June 5, 2016) on Luke 7:11-17. We celebrated a First Communion at the 10:30 am worship.

Play