Month: July 2017

Romans 8:26-39   Matthew 13: 31-33, 44-52

Lectionary 17 ~ 8^th Sunday after Pentecost 

If you were to design and create your own kingdom of heaven, what would it look like?  Would there be crystal blue oceans and diamond like sand?  Would mountains be made especially for hiking?  Would cookies always be served warm?  And would cats really be necessary?[1]

We have, over the past weeks, heard parables about the kingdom of heaven, to use Matthew’s terminology.  This kingdom has seeds falling all over the place—on rocky ground, on dry, sun-bleached earth, in the middle of thorns, and some fell on good soil, too.  While we would not let weeds into a kingdom of our own design, Jesus’ does, and those weeds are mixed right in with the good wheat.

This morning, we hear that the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, and yeast.  We diverge from the agricultural metaphors, and hear that the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, a pearl of great value, and a net thrown into the sea, catching fish of every kind.

After saying these things about the kingdom, Jesus asks the people, “Have you understood all this?”  “Uh-huh,” they assure him.  How about you? Have you  understood all this?

Each “the kingdom is like” comparison is unique. Someone plants the mustard seed, which then grows to a shrub, and houses birds. Someone uses the yeast to make bread, which then feeds people.  The treasure in the field is found, bringing the finder tremendous joy, and so the finder sells everything to buy the entire field.  Like the treasure finder, a merchant finds one fine pearl, and sells all that he has to buy it.  The fishing net, which went out empty, came back full.

God has hidden the kingdom of heaven in ordinary things,– in fields, and seeds, and yeast, in things that are in plain view, where we don’t think to look. The kingdom of heaven is here, hidden in the everyday-ness of our lives.  It’s there in the bread, in the giggles of a child, and the smell of fresh cut grass.  This is where you will find the presence of God.  God is in our love for family, and for those whom we choose to be sisters and brothers.  God is in crocheting hats for children who might otherwise be cold in the winter, giving sneakers to children in need, and in our work, paid or unpaid.

There are places, though, where we think we will never find God. Because we live in the now-but-not-yet kingdom of heaven, not only are there platypuses, music by Mozart and cookies, there are also diseases, cancers, and dementia. Our chances of reaching God’s ultimate healing of death without first experiencing declining health are slim. That’s true not only for us, but also for those we love.  Serious illness can diminish the self, and challenge our dignity.  Relationships are impacted. Caregivers struggle to manage their exhaustion and emotions.  We come to the place where we don’t even know what to ask for, and need the Spirit to intercede with sighs too deep for words.   When the Spirit intercedes for us, in those dark places where the sound of sighs is deafening, in that place where we run out of words, the Holy Spirit is right there with us.  This is the promise of our baptism, that Christ is joined to us, and we are joined to Christ in his suffering.

What does this have to do with mustard seeds, and yeast and pearls, and treasure?  Our parables tell us is that things are not always what they seem.  Our parables tell us to look our everyday lives in that which is ordinary to find God.  In the case of illness, a smile, and a caring touch bring blessings to the one who gives and the one who receives.

Our parables of the mustard seed and the yeast teach us one more thing—to let go.  It is when the seed leaves our hands, and when the yeast is left to rise, that God grows them into something new.  We try so hard to hold on to what was, and how things used to be, and even the way we think they should be, that we may miss what God is doing this day, this hour, this moment.  In the case of illness, it is when we let go of who our loved  one was in health that we can see who they are now.

Live in the kingdom right here, right now.  God is present. Who will separate us from the love of Christ?  Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?…  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. We are more than conquerors. Because of, and through, Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection, what we experience today, and what we can expect of tomorrow, are transformed.

We have glimpses of the kingdom of heaven in those who overcome the challenge of addiction, and those who are struggling to be restored to wholeness. We find the kingdom  of God in the partner who faithfully cares for an ailing spouse.  We see the presence of God in those who are suffering, as they into the fullness of their baptism.

The kingdom of God is here, now.  It is here, in this promise:  Neither death, nor life, nor cancer, nor health, nor dementia, nor functionality, nor depths of depression, nor heights of joy, nor exhaustion nor great energy, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

~Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin

[1] I actually do like cats.

Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

7^th Sunday after Pentecost – Lectionary 16

It’s been called the mile-a-minute vine, and other things that I cannot say in church.  Yes, I am talking about Kudzu, the vine that ate the South. It came to the United States through the Japanese government, which had constructed a beautiful plant exhibit for the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, and this vine captured the attention of American gardeners.  We can thank our government for the plethora of Kudzu.  During the depression of the 1930’s, hundreds of workers for the Soil Conservation Service planted kudzu for the purpose of erosion control.  And it grew.  And it grew.  And it grew.  While the Japanese brought Kudzu to our country, they left its natural enemy at home.   In 1972, the USDA declared kudzu to be a weed.  Herbicides have actually been found to help it grow. Our only hope is goats.  Goats find Kudzu as delicious as a hot fudge Sundae made with coffee ice cream, topped with nuts, whipped cream and a cherry.

Jesus taught us that wise people build their house on a solid foundation, and foolish ones build it on sand (Matthew 7:24-27).  Jesus was a much better construction engineer than he was a master gardener.  “Keep the weeds!” Jesus says in our parable this morning.  Keep the weeds?

Just as there are only two kinds of engineers, civil and uncivil, there seems to be only two kinds of people, wheat or weeds.  To the overzealous weeders, Jesus says leave the weeds alone!  I will take care of them! Jesus says the weeds will be collected, and they will be thrown in the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Our sense of justice gets great satisfaction out of hearing this.  We love to think that our enemies will get their due in the end. An eye for an eye, after all.   Don’t you just love eschatological vengeance?

Those pesky weeds!  Maybe Jesus’ parable makes us feel good, not just because “they will get theirs in the end,” but also because we think of ourselves as wheat.  Or maybe this parable scares us to death because we think we are the weeds.  Wheat or weeds, – sometimes it is hard to tell the difference.  You know, while some see Kudzu as an uncontrollable menace, others find the good in it. A woman named Nancy Basket makes paper from Kudzu, and then turns the paper into beautiful works of art.  Diane Hoots’ company manufactures delicious Kudzu blossom jelly and syrup. Henry Edwards makes Kudzu hay when the sun shines.  Regina Hines has discovered that Kudzu’s rubber-like vines can be woven into unique and functional baskets.  Medical researchers are working with a drug extracted from the kudzu root which may help in the treatment of alcoholism.

I read this parable of the wheat and the tares, which seems to say that there are good people, and there are evil people, and the evil people will be thrown into the furnace, and I cannot help but wonder, was Jesus just having an off day when he told this story?  Or maybe there is another way to look at weeds among the wheat.  Wheat or weeds? There is good and bad in everyone.  We are, as Luther frames it, simul justus et peccator.  We are simultaneously both sinner and saint.

Think about Peter, Jesus’ disciple, the one to whom Jesus said, “Get behind me Satan!  You are a stumbling block to me!” [Matthew 16.23].  And yet the one whom Jesus called Satan and a stumbling block, he also called the rock, the one who would be foundational for building the church.  Then there’s Judas. Jesus washed his feet knowing Judas would betray him with a kiss.  There is Paul, who used to be known as Saul – the Jew who persecuted Christians. God used him to further God’s church.  The same Paul who declares in his letter to the Romans, “For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” [7.15], is the same Paul who planted churches across the Mediterranean world the way Johnny Appleseed planted trees.

Weeds are not that cut and dry, pardon the pun.  Weeds can be useful in ways we do not understand.  We live among both wheat and weeds, but both wheat and weeds also live in us. God knows this about us, ever since Adam and Eve and the whole naked missing apple incident. There will always be weeds in the wheat field.

God never promised us that we would become so good or so wise that that weeds would find somewhere else to grow instead of in and around us.  Whether we like it or not, God made both wheat and weeds, growing together in the field, and Jesus tells us, Live with it.  Trust God to take care of it, in God’s time.  Things happen in our world and in our lives that are beyond our power to prevent, and beyond our power to fix.  But nothing is beyond God’s power. Through Christ’s life, his death, and his resurrection, God reaches his hand down into the muck and mire of our lives, forgives us, and purifies us, and makes us holy. What God does for us, God also does for our weedy neighbor. Through Christ, none of us is beyond God’s redemption.

~Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin

 

 

Romans 6:12-23  Matthew 10:40-42    

4^th Sunday after Pentecost – Lectionary 13

 

Americans are celebrating 241 years of freedom this week.  We do it with picnics, fireworks and shopping the sales in stores.  Freedom always comes at a cost, and ours is no different.  One of the many stories from the Revolutionary war is the pivotal battle on Kings Mountain.  Patrick Ferguson led British Loyalists against the Overmountain Men. Ferguson was certain that the trees and rocks on top of the mountain gave him a military advantage.  It’s reported that Ferguson declared that, “he was king of that mountain, and God Almighty could not drive him from it.”’[1] What Ferguson had not taken into account was that his men needed to step out from behind the cover of trees and rocks and out into the open in order to fire.  The results were devastating.  This battle proved to be the beginning of the end for the British.

Americans became free from British rule, but there are many ways to be in bondage, and there are other types of freedom.  Not all people were set free as a result of the Revolutionary War.  The American Civil War in the 1860’s determined that the states would remain united in one nation, and that it would be free from slavery.  There are many types of freedom, and in the 1960’s Dr. Martin Luther King would work for the freedom of equality.  The sixties were about being free from many things, especially societal and moral rules.  Have you heard about Woodstock? Woodstock celebrated the breaking of boundaries, and burst the seams of freedom, yet Janis Joplin sang, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”

Freedom.  A six-foot tall monument of the Ten Commandments was recently erected at the state capital of Arkansas.   This past week, it was reported that a 32-year-old man drove his car over it.  Those who were watching it on FaceBook Live heard music, and then, just moments before he sped up, he said, “Oh, my goodness—freedom!”

Freedom.  We all want to be free, free from something— free from debt, free from illness, free from someone, free from doubt.  What is it that something for you? From what would you like to be free?

As the Declaration of Independence speaks to our freedom as Americans, Paul speaks of freedom in his letter to the Romans.  He explains that through his death and resurrection, Jesus fulfilled the law.  If Lutherans have a motto, it is, We are justified by grace through faith.  Paul writes, For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from the works prescribed by the law (Romans 3:28).  What does this mean?  It means that we are made right with God. What is it that we must do go get on God’s good side?  Nothing.  We are saved by grace through faith.  Not only that, but that faith is the gift of God.  We are set free from having to prove ourselves worthy of love and free from having to earn our own salvation.  Joined to Christ in his life, death and resurrection through the word and waters of our baptism, we are set free from the bondage of sin and death.

We are set free!  Now what?  We know what to do with conditional gifts, if you do this, then I do that.  If you study hard and do your homework, then you will get good grades.  If you eat all your spinach, then you can have cookies.  With an if-then promise, we maintain some control. But God’s gift is free. There are no conditions.  The promise is not if-then, it is because-therefore.  Because Jesus died and was resurrected, therefore we are justified.  Because Jesus suffered the sins of the world, we are free from sin. Now what? How do we live in God’s freedom?

The theological term for this is sanctification.  What does that mean? It has been said that sanctification means learning to accept our justification. Sanctification and justification are intertwined. Lutherans and Luther don’t talk much about sanctification, however, Luther rightly tells us that we are both saints and sinners at the same time. While we are sinners, we are also being made holy. We are already and not-yet.  We are living into our baptism.  We are set apart for God’s use even while we are sinners.  Sanctification is learning to trust God. It is relational.  Sanctification is the work of the Holy Spirit.

Through God’s grace, we are set free from the power of sin and death. God’s grace is bigger than our sin.  God’s grace is more powerful than death. When we are set free from the law and from sin, the question then becomes, free for what.  The for what question relates to the process of sanctification.  Paul writes, But now that you have been freed from sin and enslaved to God, the advantage you get is sanctification. We are set free to be obedient to God, to do God’s will.  The results of our sanctification are, in Paul’s language, the fruit of the Spirit.

Hospitality is one of the fruits of the Spirit to which Jesus refers when he says, Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.  Jesus is telling us to bring the presence of Christ to everyone we meet, the same Christ who loves us unconditionally, who extends grace and mercy. What would that look like at the gym, or at work? What does that look like outside the walls of church, the borders of our neighborhood, or on the other side of our country’s borders?  What does unconditional hospitality look like inside the walls of our church?

God’s grace is hospitable and inclusive.  Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones, Jesus says. It is that simple. Care for others in helpful ways.  Visit someone who cannot get out.  Drive someone who can’t drive themselves.  Listen with a compassionate heart to someone who is grieving. During worship, help a visitor find their place in our worship book, walk with them to the communion rail.  Find out if you can help them navigate Williamsburg’s many gems.  Graciously let others sit in your self-assigned seat in the pew. Remember, those in our church every Sunday may need a glass of water, too.  The hospitality of welcome includes calling someone who was not here, and telling them you missed them. Wherever you are, make Christ’s presence known in things you do and the words you say.

One cup of water to one person can bring life.  This is beautifully illustrated by the story of the Star Thrower.  Maybe you have heard it.  There was a man walking on the beach.  As he looked along the shoreline, he saw a boy reach down and pick up a starfish.  The boy then threw it into the ocean.  As the man came closer, he called out, “Hello!”  The boy looked up, and the man, now standing next to him, asked, “What are you doing?”  The boy looked up and answered, “I’m throwing starfish into the ocean.”  “I see that, but why?” asked the man.
The tide has stranded them.  If I don’t throw them back into the water before the sun comes up, they will die,” the boy answered.  “Surely you know that there are miles and miles of beach, and thousands of stranded starfish.  You’ll never throw them all back.  There are too many.  You can’t possibly make a difference.”  The boy listened quietly, and then picked up another starfish.  As he threw it back into the sea, he said, “It made a difference for that one.”[2]

~Pastor Cheryl Ann Griffin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[1] http://www.learnnc.org/lp/editions/nchist-revolution/4272

 

[2] Written by Loren Eiseley.  https://starthrowerfoundation.org/about-starthrower-foundation/the-star-thrower-story/