At first glance, it appears that Peter is being praised by Jesus for doing something, in this case, finally giving the correct answer. If you look more closely, however, Jesus makes it clear that Peter has actually done nothing. The “correct answer” is not the result of Peter’s theological acumen. It is rather, God’s work. And so we should have great courage, because the church built on the rock of Peter’s affirmation of faith is not ultimately dependent on the achievements of any human beings but always and only on the gracious gift of God. The work of the church that we set our hands to is, the work of binding and loosing that Jesus gives to us, is indeed God’s work. May God who has begun this good work in us bring it to fulfillment.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
9th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A (Matt 15:[10-20] 21-28)
This is at once one of the most disturbing and hopeful portraits of Jesus found in the Gospels. Jesus’ initial response to the Canaanite woman is, to put it mildly, unkind. Why does he feel the need to put this woman in her place? Perhaps it is so that she is then in a position to put him in his. Jesus responds to her retort, not with further insult or by ignoring her and moving on. Instead, he recognizes both her dignity and her faith.
This story stands in sharp contradiction to all those who would suggest that Christians have nothing to learn from other religions. If Jesus himself was willing to be taught by a Canaanite, how much more should we be humble enough to recognize and accept those teachers who come to us from outside our own faith tradition? I have a fantasy of this woman standing beside Jesus on the Last Day, judging our faith. Fortunately, we have every reason to believe that she too will be merciful.
This story stands in sharp contradiction to all those who would suggest that Christians have nothing to learn from other religions. If Jesus himself was willing to be taught by a Canaanite, how much more should we be humble enough to recognize and accept those teachers who come to us from outside our own faith tradition? I have a fantasy of this woman standing beside Jesus on the Last Day, judging our faith. Fortunately, we have every reason to believe that she too will be merciful.
Monday, August 1, 2011
8th Sunday after Pentecost - Year A (Matt 14:22-33
While placed by Matthew in the context of Jesus’ ministry, this text bears all the marks of a post-resurrection appearance; a body not bound by ordinary physics, speculation about a ghost, fear and then faith on the part of the disciples. In particular, this story parallels the post-resurrection story of Thomas, with Peter being the doubter who demands evidence. In this case, the evidence is his own (Peter’s) ability to join Jesus on the water. This story makes another important connection as well. It connects Jesus to the very moment of creation. Just as God’s spirit hovered over the waters and brought order to chaos, so does Jesus stand on the waters, calming the wind, and bringing order to creation.
The church like a tiny boat on a large sea; small, vulnerable, and seldom faithful, hardly seems fit for its task. Left to its own devices it would surely fail. There is no cause for triumphalism on the barque of Peter, no place for pride. There is only the need for faith and, in the end, worship.
The church like a tiny boat on a large sea; small, vulnerable, and seldom faithful, hardly seems fit for its task. Left to its own devices it would surely fail. There is no cause for triumphalism on the barque of Peter, no place for pride. There is only the need for faith and, in the end, worship.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Seventh Sunday After Pentecost - A (Matt. 14:13-21)
It’s been a commonplace over recent years to explain away the miraculous in this Sunday’s gospel text. You know how it goes: one person gives something they have stashed away and then another does the same. Generosity begets generosity. The real miracle according to this view is that the people shared what they had. I am no critic of sharing. A generous sharing of what we have with those who have not is, indeed, very important. It’s just that in this instant, to emphasize human sharing misses the point. The whole of the gospel message, including this pericope, is about what God does for us in Jesus Christ. The answer to our chronic weariness and hunger is not to be found in our own striving but in God’s gracious gift. This miraculous feeding becomes a type for the Eucharist. In communion, we are given something we could never provide for ourselves, no matter how generous. Christ gives us himself as food for those hungers that are too deep for words. Christ gives himself to us as medicine, healing the weariness born of our bondage to sin. God, in Christ Jesus, is the giver.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
2nd Sunday after Pentecost - Year A (Matt. 10:40-42)
Summing up the theme of this Sunday’s Gospel lesson, The Rule of Benedict suggests that all guests are to be received as Christ. Benedict’s wisdom transforms hospitality from a good work into an affirmation of faith. Each person who comes to the door is seen through the eyes of faith. Insofar as all guests are Christ, all guests are equal. It is not up to the host to decide who is sent, who is prophet, who is righteous, or who is “one of these little ones”. All are welcomed equally. Just as God’s rain falls on both the just and the unjust, so too does authentic Christian hospitality reach out to absolutely everyone.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Trinity Sunday - Year A Homily
Trinity Sunday
June 19, 2011
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Most theological textbooks on the Trinity distinguish between terms like ad intra and ad extra, processions and spirations, economic an imminent. Where’s a preacher on Trinity Sunday to begin? How is any of this relevant to our daily lives? I would suggest that its very relevant but only if we begin someplace other than theology text books. Let’s let the lectionary be our guide today and begin where it begins – “In the beginning.”
Today’s first lesson is the first of two creation accounts found in the Book of Genesis. Over the centuries the imaginations of Christians have been informed by artistic representations of this event, most notably by the Michelangelo version on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. In the Michelangelo version, the creator God is pictured as a stern older man with silver hair and beard. Kind of like your grumpy grandpa or uncle, except that he obviously works out and has a personal trainer.
At the hay day of renaissance humanism, you could almost say that God had been created in the likeness of human beings, rather than the other way around. God is just like us, only better. The God of the Sistine Chapel ceiling is the epitome of the renaissance artistic genius, working alone to create his masterpiece, the prototype of the modern world’s rugged individual. The artist Michelangelo and created an artist God who could, unlike himself, stand up to anyone, including the pope.
Unfortunately, Michelangelo’s depiction doesn’t quite capture the nuances of the Genesis account. This is more a limitation of the medium, I suspect, than a critique of Michelangelo’s talent. How do you paint the power of a word? How do you draw the breath of God hovering over the pre creation chaos? God does not simply will creation into existence but, rather, speaks a powerful yet gentle creative word, followed by a further word of affirmation and affection. God’s breath, or spirit, encompasses the creation and becomes the life force of all that lives. Creation, then, is not the singular masterpiece of a ruggedly individual artist God, but a delicate and loving interplay of will, word, and breath (– what we Christians have come to understand as the Holy Trinity; Father, Son and Spirit.
The Russian iconographer, Andrei Rublev, has given the world an artistic representation of the Christian Trinitarian God far different from that of Michelangelo. Will, word and breath are depicted as three individuals, each unique but at the same time, strangely the same. They gaze on one another, not as rivals, but almost as lovers. If in Michelangelo’s ceiling, creation was an act of power, in Rublev’s Trinity, creation is surely an act of love. And, beyond that, not a onetime act, but an ongoing expression of Trinitarian life.
There is no room for you and me on Michelangelo’s ceiling. Notice though that the icon not only has a place for us, its very structure invites us into the loving, creative, life of God. We have, by grace, been brought into the deepest heart of the Trinitarian mystery and have been made co-creators, with God, of the new creation. The Gospels call this new creation the kingdom of God.
Our triune God is at work in the world and by Baptism we have been made God’s coworkers. Using the word “work” in a Lutheran sermon is always dangerous. I‘m not suggesting that our role as divine coworkers is something of our own doing, nor would I want to suggest that it is a work we take on to advance our own salvation. No, our status as coworkers is totally God’s gift and the actual work we do a manifestation of divine grace.
Hopefully having scrupulously avoided the number one Lutheran heresy, I would dare to suggest that we are called, according to the measure of our gifts, to participate in the bringing about of the new creation, the coming of the Kingdom of God. Today’s Gospel lesson roots our understanding of the Trinity in baptism and in our common baptismal mission. The promises made in the Affirmation of Baptism, which is at the heart of the Lutheran confirmation rite and which all of us make from time to time during the church year, help us to understand just what our role is in the ongoing work of creation.
First, modeled on the Trinity itself, our work is communal. We commit ourselves to live among God’s holy people. We are not in this alone. The Christian life is rooted in a deep sense of community. Lone rangers are not the norm and our egos are made subject to the common good. Our human community is not only modeled on, but fully participates in, the community of divine life.
It may sound a bit silly, but the Trinity is actually what we might call a “mutual admiration society”. Father, Son and Spirit are engaged in a constant communication of mutual love and worship. Rather than creating a cacophony of noise, this exchange of affection and praise within the Trinity creates an exquisite harmony. In the Affirmation of Baptism we promise to hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s Supper. Whenever we come together in worship, we enter into that divine song. I suggest that we think of this dialog of intercession and praise taking place within the trinity as something akin to electricity. Our human acts of prayer and worship are the way in which we plug into a reality far larger than what we could ever manage on our own.
This Trinitarian life of love and worship in which we live by grace is not for us alone. Others are invited. Rublev’s icon of the Trinity reminds us that there is room at the table for everyone. This invitation must, however, be extended. Our Affirmation of Baptism reminds us that we have an obligation to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed.
The new creation is made present in the world through humble service. We commit ourselves to serve all people, following the example of Jesus. Not only is there a place at the table for all, there is a bountiful share of all the goods of creation for each person. Our human economies are based on scarcity – the law of supply and demand. We are co-creators when we do what we can to make the Trinitarian economy of abundance concrete in the lives of the victims of scarcity.
Finally, our Affirmation of Baptism would have us strive for justice and peace in all the earth. Justice and peace are the building blocks of the new heaven and the earth promised by God. No single political theory or party, no one form of government, no individual leader, has a market on peace and justice. We do ourselves and our world a terrible disservice, however, when we try to separate politics, government, and civic leadership from the work of Kingdom building. The mutual love and respect, of Father, Son, and Spirit, with its recognition of both oneness and difference, provides us with the model and definition of peace and justice.
The Christian doctrines of the Trinity and of Creation are not simply for theologians. They underpin our whole approach to the Christian life. Everything, from what we think of ourselves when we look in the mirror in the morning to how we spend our money, is influenced by our beliefs about who God is, what God has and continues to do in the world, and our role in that divine work.
And, just in case you were wondering, we’ve been exploring the idea of the immanent and the economic Trinity. That is, the relationship of the three persons to one another and their relationship to creation. Give yourselves a pat on the back. Pastor Marda will be so proud! As for processions and spirations, we’ll save those for another day.
June 19, 2011
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Most theological textbooks on the Trinity distinguish between terms like ad intra and ad extra, processions and spirations, economic an imminent. Where’s a preacher on Trinity Sunday to begin? How is any of this relevant to our daily lives? I would suggest that its very relevant but only if we begin someplace other than theology text books. Let’s let the lectionary be our guide today and begin where it begins – “In the beginning.”
Today’s first lesson is the first of two creation accounts found in the Book of Genesis. Over the centuries the imaginations of Christians have been informed by artistic representations of this event, most notably by the Michelangelo version on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. In the Michelangelo version, the creator God is pictured as a stern older man with silver hair and beard. Kind of like your grumpy grandpa or uncle, except that he obviously works out and has a personal trainer.
At the hay day of renaissance humanism, you could almost say that God had been created in the likeness of human beings, rather than the other way around. God is just like us, only better. The God of the Sistine Chapel ceiling is the epitome of the renaissance artistic genius, working alone to create his masterpiece, the prototype of the modern world’s rugged individual. The artist Michelangelo and created an artist God who could, unlike himself, stand up to anyone, including the pope.
Unfortunately, Michelangelo’s depiction doesn’t quite capture the nuances of the Genesis account. This is more a limitation of the medium, I suspect, than a critique of Michelangelo’s talent. How do you paint the power of a word? How do you draw the breath of God hovering over the pre creation chaos? God does not simply will creation into existence but, rather, speaks a powerful yet gentle creative word, followed by a further word of affirmation and affection. God’s breath, or spirit, encompasses the creation and becomes the life force of all that lives. Creation, then, is not the singular masterpiece of a ruggedly individual artist God, but a delicate and loving interplay of will, word, and breath (– what we Christians have come to understand as the Holy Trinity; Father, Son and Spirit.
The Russian iconographer, Andrei Rublev, has given the world an artistic representation of the Christian Trinitarian God far different from that of Michelangelo. Will, word and breath are depicted as three individuals, each unique but at the same time, strangely the same. They gaze on one another, not as rivals, but almost as lovers. If in Michelangelo’s ceiling, creation was an act of power, in Rublev’s Trinity, creation is surely an act of love. And, beyond that, not a onetime act, but an ongoing expression of Trinitarian life.
There is no room for you and me on Michelangelo’s ceiling. Notice though that the icon not only has a place for us, its very structure invites us into the loving, creative, life of God. We have, by grace, been brought into the deepest heart of the Trinitarian mystery and have been made co-creators, with God, of the new creation. The Gospels call this new creation the kingdom of God.
Our triune God is at work in the world and by Baptism we have been made God’s coworkers. Using the word “work” in a Lutheran sermon is always dangerous. I‘m not suggesting that our role as divine coworkers is something of our own doing, nor would I want to suggest that it is a work we take on to advance our own salvation. No, our status as coworkers is totally God’s gift and the actual work we do a manifestation of divine grace.
Hopefully having scrupulously avoided the number one Lutheran heresy, I would dare to suggest that we are called, according to the measure of our gifts, to participate in the bringing about of the new creation, the coming of the Kingdom of God. Today’s Gospel lesson roots our understanding of the Trinity in baptism and in our common baptismal mission. The promises made in the Affirmation of Baptism, which is at the heart of the Lutheran confirmation rite and which all of us make from time to time during the church year, help us to understand just what our role is in the ongoing work of creation.
First, modeled on the Trinity itself, our work is communal. We commit ourselves to live among God’s holy people. We are not in this alone. The Christian life is rooted in a deep sense of community. Lone rangers are not the norm and our egos are made subject to the common good. Our human community is not only modeled on, but fully participates in, the community of divine life.
It may sound a bit silly, but the Trinity is actually what we might call a “mutual admiration society”. Father, Son and Spirit are engaged in a constant communication of mutual love and worship. Rather than creating a cacophony of noise, this exchange of affection and praise within the Trinity creates an exquisite harmony. In the Affirmation of Baptism we promise to hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s Supper. Whenever we come together in worship, we enter into that divine song. I suggest that we think of this dialog of intercession and praise taking place within the trinity as something akin to electricity. Our human acts of prayer and worship are the way in which we plug into a reality far larger than what we could ever manage on our own.
This Trinitarian life of love and worship in which we live by grace is not for us alone. Others are invited. Rublev’s icon of the Trinity reminds us that there is room at the table for everyone. This invitation must, however, be extended. Our Affirmation of Baptism reminds us that we have an obligation to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed.
The new creation is made present in the world through humble service. We commit ourselves to serve all people, following the example of Jesus. Not only is there a place at the table for all, there is a bountiful share of all the goods of creation for each person. Our human economies are based on scarcity – the law of supply and demand. We are co-creators when we do what we can to make the Trinitarian economy of abundance concrete in the lives of the victims of scarcity.
Finally, our Affirmation of Baptism would have us strive for justice and peace in all the earth. Justice and peace are the building blocks of the new heaven and the earth promised by God. No single political theory or party, no one form of government, no individual leader, has a market on peace and justice. We do ourselves and our world a terrible disservice, however, when we try to separate politics, government, and civic leadership from the work of Kingdom building. The mutual love and respect, of Father, Son, and Spirit, with its recognition of both oneness and difference, provides us with the model and definition of peace and justice.
The Christian doctrines of the Trinity and of Creation are not simply for theologians. They underpin our whole approach to the Christian life. Everything, from what we think of ourselves when we look in the mirror in the morning to how we spend our money, is influenced by our beliefs about who God is, what God has and continues to do in the world, and our role in that divine work.
And, just in case you were wondering, we’ve been exploring the idea of the immanent and the economic Trinity. That is, the relationship of the three persons to one another and their relationship to creation. Give yourselves a pat on the back. Pastor Marda will be so proud! As for processions and spirations, we’ll save those for another day.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Pentecost - Year A (John 20:19-23)
While it isn’t explicit, this Gospel text hints at something I have longed believed. Sin is the result of fear. Our sinful actions, inaction, and attitudes are ways in which we try to cope with a variety of fears. Jesus enters the locked room of our fear with the offer of peace. While peace is not the same thing as courage, it is the acceptance that the risen Christ is proof that God is ultimately up to something good for us and the world and that we need not be afraid. The acceptance of that gift of Easter peace opens the possibility for forgiveness. It is the Spirit that brings this peace to us. It then becomes our mission to be ministers of this peace to others. Pentecost begins with fear and ends with forgiveness.
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