Are You Saved? How About are You Being Converted?

Where are you going? Are you saved? Maybe these aren't the right questions...

Today's readings:

• Acts 17:22–31

• Matthew 25:31–40

• Psalm 97:1–2,7–12

If you grew up in the South you probably are familiar with the following question, “Are you saved?” I believe this to be something worth discussing in all parts of the Christian Church; however, some branches are more obsessed with the response than others. As a staunch Episcopalian in my youth, I wanted to rebel against such questions thinking them beneath me; however, one youth group leader helped my Episcopal Youth Community (EYC) to practice our responses to this query. The fervor with which this EYC mentor urged us has stuck with me, but even more than his spirit a follow-up demand he made on our community still hounds me to this day.

Before getting to his question though let me reframe the original ask a little bit. Quite often what catches our part of the Jesus Movement off guard is this underlying belief that there is an all-or-nothing decision that we make that will give us entry into either heaven or hell. The beliefs that lie behind “Are you saved?” seem to fly in the face of what we believe about God’s eternal love, reconciliation, and grace. Namely, we believe that God loving us eternally is not up to us, but up to God who is always faithful, loving, and true. So, when the typical Episcopalian is asked “Are you saved?” we will quite often respond with a quizzical look because this inquiry simply does not compute.

The closest analogy—which is a poor one that easily breaks down—is asking a child who is loved unconditionally by her parents if she has chosen to be loved. She is already loved, whether she wants to dwell in that love is of course up to her, but the parents love comes whether she chooses it or not. So, back to the original question and the youth ministry who challenged it.

What lay behind his conversation with us was not a denial of the question itself, but a challenge to it. The question “Are you saved?” implies a one-time transaction, like a knee-replacement or a single deposit into a checking account. What we were encouraged to do was not to seek a solitary moment of acceptance, but rather to allow God to continuously transform us. The request for him was not “Are you saved?” but instead, “Are you undergoing conversion?”—not a knee-replacement, but a daily dose of medicine; not a single deposit, but a regular contribution. Fortunately enough for us we have the example of saintly ones whom we remember today and this passage from Acts 17 to call us into lives that are not a shooting star, but the constant lapping of the ocean.

King Kamehameha and Queen Emma were not your typical royalty. When they took over as the ruling people of Hawaii in the middle of the 19^th Century their subjects were accustomed to royals who lived at a distance and focused mostly on the pomp and pageantry of the position. Instead Kamehameha and Emma ruled alongside their people—even those who had been recently afflicted by a severe small pox outbreak. This experience of seeing the suffering served as a catalyst and the beginning of a conversion in them. To respond to those in pain the king and queen went door-to-door to both rich and poor as they sought funds to build a hospital.

In the midst of meeting their people King Kamehameha and Queen Emma saw the unsatisfactory work of Christian missionaries from the United States. As a response, the royal couple petitioned the Bishop of Oxford to send Church of England representatives to come to Hawaii to teach lives of conversion. As a prince, Kamehameha had been strongly impressed by time spent in England. The king’s fascination though was not a flash in the pan, as he spent the years after a missionary bishop and priests were sent to the islands transcribing the Prayer Book and Hymnal into his native language. When the couple’s lone son died Kamehameha seemingly died of grief a year later. Following this the queen declined to rule, but instead spent her life tending to the sick, taking care of school, and raising funds for a cathedral. She even became a favorite guest of Queen Victoria. The Cathedral completed after both their deaths was a testimony of lives that were not lived in fear of answering an all-or-nothing question, but in love from the conversion that was happening because of God’s presence in their lives.

Today’s First Lesson from Acts 17 calls to mind similarly a question of conversion. When Paul challenged the Athenians, who were accustomed to worshipping many gods, to see and know the one true God it did not only matter whether those listening accepted this teaching in the moment. Rather, what mattered was whether a true conversion began in their lives. Over the course of time did the Gentile listeners yearn to know more of God in whom they lived and moved and had their being? Did they discover that they were part of God’s offspring? Would that learn that God loved them infinitely? Or, were they scared into making a one-time decision?

A one-time transaction with God does not speak of the abundant transformation that life with Christ offers. Daily we are invited to offer up our lives to be transformed by God’s love. We do that here in this service when we offer up our gifts literally and symbolically on the altar. God in this moment alters our lives as they become more fully a part of God’s life. When we receive the gifts of God as the people of God we are indeed undergoing conversion. God hands us back our lives only they have been transformed. May we continually undergo transformation by God as we seek not a single moment of salvation, but a life changed by Christ’s redeeming love.

The Forgotten Art of Giving Thanks

Have we forgotten how to give thanks?

This sermon is inspired by the readings for the Feast of Thanksgiving:

Deuteronomy 8:7-18Psalm 652 Corinthians 9:6-15Luke 17:11-19 (Particularly this one)

Recently I had some time to kill in a city with which I was not familiar. So, I walked down the main street of this old town, and I marveled at all the cute boutiques, specialty eateries, and upscale gift shops. To escape the brisk, fall day I ventured into a couple of stores. When I did I found myself rather disoriented and confused.

In every shop I entered, nearly everywhere I looked what I found was gifts, decorations, and cards celebrating the upcoming Christmas and Hanukah seasons. The tables overflowed with presents and featured signs above them like, “the perfect gift for her,” “that special gift for him,” “a gift to make their season bright.” There were ornaments for Christmas trees, decorations for the Festival of Lights, and row upon row of holiday notes. For a moment I had to stop and look down at the date on my phone to make sure I had not fallen asleep for a month and missed most of November. As I looked back up I saw one small table with a tiny placard on it distinguishing it from the rest. The sign read: “Thanksgiving clearance.” My heart sank.

We have found a way in our culture to all but overlook the celebration of Thanksgiving. Even earlier this week I heard radio hosts apologizing that their station had not started playing Christmas music yet. If you ventured into a local drugstore before the last day of October you might have been surprised that Halloween candy was already replaced with Christmas goodies. Our local shops had their Christmas open house in the second week of November. I wonder, “Have we forgotten the art, the practice of giving thanks?”

Somewhere lost in the shuffle at this time of year when we are captivated by football, politics, and buying the perfect gift is a day that we set aside to initially stop and give thanks. While the roots of agricultural festivals date back to antiquity, we trace our feast of Thanksgiving back to European colonists in Massachusetts and Virginia who thanks to Native Americans made it through their first harvest. Now with the bounty with which we have become so accustomed, we may even forget that tomorrow is about more than food, family, and football. Like the nine lepers who did not turn around to thank Jesus, we have become people who keep going on our merry way. Again, I wonder, “Have we forgotten the art, the practice of giving thanks?”

The one leper who initially stopped, turned around, praised God, prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet, and thanked him teaches us something about how we might recover the spiritual exercise of giving thanks—not just on the fourth Thursday of November, but every day. Let us look at the example laid out by this leper from long ago.

First off, we have to stop. We have to stop and not just tomorrow. Every Sunday here at church we participate in something profound. I’ll get to the deeper meaning of this service that we call the Eucharist in a moment, but for now think about the simple truth that when we are at church we stop doing what we would otherwise be doing. Sure, we can do this at other times in our lives. There’s a great gratitude campaign that some in our parish have been taking part in on Facebook. Even stopping to take a moment to thank God—especially first thing in the morning—has a profound impact on how we see the world. The lonely leper though did more than simply stop.

The second aspect that this Samaritan leper teaches us is turning around. We may recall that the fancy church term for turning around is repentance. When we repent, we figuratively—and often literally—turn our lives in a different direction. Namely, we shift our lives to focus upon following Jesus. In a few moments we will confess our sins and ask God to help us to transform our lives so that we might delight in God’s will and walk in his ways. Part of the leper’s thankfulness was in recognizing that he was lost and going in the wrong direction without the love of God, may we remember this as well.

Another helpful practice of giving thanks that this leper teaches us comes in how he praised God with a loud voice. I suspect most of us do not like to raise our voices—unless perhaps our team is losing. What happens though when we free ourselves from the elements of decorum? What happens when we truly experience profound healing or transformation from God? Don’t we want to shout and praise God? I can recall a time when after going to a priest to confess my sins in the rite of Reconciliation I was so happy I wanted to do cartwheels and so I did! If we are truly thankful we will feel the freedom to praise God without a care in the world—even with a loud voice.

The Samaritan’s act of laying himself at Jesus’ feet and thanking him stands out as the coup de grace, the pièce de résistance, the capstone in the overlooked art of giving thanks. Our entire liturgy that we are participating in right now focuses upon taking the time to figuratively and literally kneel before God to say thank you. Yes, we can do this daily in our lives in many other ways, but something even more powerful happens when we come together to celebrate the Eucharist. We call this very service the Great Thanksgiving. We celebrate together as we give our humble thanks to God. A simple summation of how this gratitude manifests may be found in the following words:

Celebrant: Let us bless the Lord.

People: Thanks be to God.

The very way that we bless God is chiefly with our thanksgiving. Of course, giving thanks takes under its wings all sorts of other giving—giving time, talent, treasure, energy, intellect, humor, and our entire lives. This service that we participate in is a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. We give over every bit of ourselves through gratitude and Christ Jesus in this feast returns to us our lives, only transformed by love.

As we focus tomorrow on the Feast of Thanksgiving may we allow the example of this lowly leper to challenge us to be grateful to God every day. May we stop, repent, praise God, and kneel before Jesus, as we offer our blessing of praise and thanksgiving. In recovering this lost art of giving thanks God will transform our lives! 

Sacrifice the Gift

"To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift" Steve Prefontaine

If you lived through the first wave of running fever in the United States during the 1970s or if you have run competitively in the decades since then, you can probably guess the identity of this young man. Instead of hiding his gifts away—just so he could play a more renowned sport—this teenager chose the path less traveled. He developed into the most iconic runner in the history of the United States of America. His name? Steve Prefontaine. At one time he held every U.S. running record from 2,000 to 10,000 meters. Even to this day his legendary status holds among runners everywhere. Just mention his name to any distance runner and a smile will cross her face. 

This did not have to be the case though. “Pre” could have tried to keep playing the more highly regarded pastimes of football and basketball. He could have quit sports altogether. Even once he gained success in running he did not have to keep going. There were many who wanted to stop the outspoken, mustachioed Prefontaine from representing the United States at the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich. However, as he put it during the heyday of his career, “To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.” To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift. While it is certainly an all-or-nothing way of seeing things, could there be a more succinct way of describing today’s Gospel lesson?!

Three servants were given a large sum of money each according to the individual’s skill level. Two of them straightaway went out and began using the gift. Both of those servants doubled the initial investment and were able to joyfully come to meet their master. The third? Well, the third faced the same options that Prefontaine faced: use the gift or sacrifice it? Sure, we may look at this great runner and think he has very little in common with the third servant, but they faced a similar decision. Use the talent that was handed to them or let it sit buried beneath the surface. And, to tell you the truth we face the same choice as this third servant too. We face the same decision that this icon of distance running faced. Do we use the gifts given to us or not?

Most preaching professors will tell their students to never discuss the process of writing a sermon with the congregation in the midst of the sermon. No one wants to know how the sausage is made, they just want to enjoy it. However, I have to tell you about making sausage… I mean working on this sermon. I have struggled with this passage all week long. Every time I get to the end and try to reconcile how the master treats the timid third servant I cringe. Is God really this harsh? Is this even who God is? 

The first part of the story makes a lot of sense to me. God graciously gives to us in abundance. God also gives us the ability to choose how we use the gifts given to us. The first two servants go out and boldly trust in the abundance of God transforming and multiplying the gifts given to them. The third servant though became paralyzed by fear. It is at this point in the story that I wonder if the real harshness was not from the master but from within the third servant.

When looking more closely at the master we see him giving abundantly, allowing the servants to make their own choices, and sharing in the joy of the first two servant’s growth. What about that is harsh? The master never asks for a certain return on investment, there is no due date on any payment, and in fact, there is only gift! But, what about the ending? Why is it that the third one is thrown out into the darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth? Isn’t it strange that the master gives freely, but then criticizes how the third servant utilizes the free gift? Is this a little bit like giving a child a toy they really want and then getting upset that they are more excited to play with the box that the toy came in? 

I think there is even one more wrinkle in this story. This story has historically been linked to God’s righteous judgment—something we will hear more about next week in the story of the sheep and the goats. However, the life of Christ Jesus points out that God’s judgment can never be separated from God’s love. What seems to make the master so upset is that he wanted the servants to use what they had been given. If the third servant had gone out and tried his hardest but failed mightily. The master would have still said to him the same as the other two, “Enter into the joy of your master.” As strange as it sounds, failure was not what the master reprimanded, rather it was not participating, not sharing a gift with others, and not using what God gives.

I hate to break it to us all, but this story is not about success, and neither is this life. This story is not about the outcome, and neither is this life. Life in Christ is not about winning—yes, I’m saying that during Iron Bowl week—nor is it about social status, nor is it about ROI. This story is not about our ability to double the investment God has made in us. No, this story is about God gifting us with skill and talent. And, perhaps more importantly how we will receive it and use it.

Will we let fear rule in our hearts? Will we be afraid of trying to do that thing that we dream of doing, but don’t know how it will go? Will we continue to be satisfied with burying the talent in the ground because there we know it’s safe? Or… will we go at once and trust in God’s abundance? Will we write that book we have always wanted to write? Will we quit the mundane job we hate to pursue the thing that we know will bring us joy? Will we buy the boat so we can sail around the world? Will we use the talent and trust that God will always provide in abundance even when will fail or will we let fear rule our hearts? Will we sacrifice the gifts or will we use what God has given us? Even when we fail God will welcome us into joy, so what will you do with the talent God has given you?

What is “It”?

Before I can get anywhere with this coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson I get stuck. The passage begins, “Jesus said, ‘It is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away.’” Well Jesus, what is it? For the answer we must jump back to the passage immediately preceding this one in Matthew’s 25th Chapter.

In yesterday’s Gospel lesson we heard Jesus speaking of wise and foolish virgins who either did or did not have the foresight to pack extra oil for their lamps to accompany the bridegroom to the wedding feast. Why was he speaking in this parabolic language? He was speaking in parables to help illuminate what the Kingdom of Heaven will be like. The it in this week’s Gospel is the same subject matter as last week’s, namely the Kingdom Jesus inaugurates. If we go all the way back to the beginning of the 24th Chapter in Matthew’s Gospel we discover that Jesus has been on a teaching tirade in hopes of illuminating his closest followers about what God’s reign will truly look like.

Jesus goes in quick succession as his crucifixion grows nearer and nearer. He warns of the destruction of the Temple, points to signs of the end of the age, foretells of persecutions, bids his followers keep watch, urges them to remain faithful, and paints a picture of wise and foolish maidens waiting. In all of this instruction the energy around Jesus feels frantic, as though the anxiety of his disciples, the Pharisees, and the whole city of Jerusalem are wearing on him. By the time we get to next week, the last Sunday of the Church year, we will hear Jesus expressing the judgment of the nations like the splitting up of sheep and goats. At this moment it feels as though there is no middle ground, except that there is.

In this week’s Gospel there are three servants whom the master entrusts with a sizeable amount of money. One servant gets five talents, another servant gets two talents, and a third receives one talent—each according to her or his ability. After some time passes the master returns. The first two double the investment made with them. The third one acting out of fear of the master buries his talent and returns it—without either increasing or decreasing its value. The first two are commended, while the third servant receives a harsh punishment. We hear Jesus speak the tagline for this story through the master: “For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.” Without much effort we paint a picture of God as harsh and uncompromising, while we describe discipleship as all or nothing. And yet, is that truly what this story speaks?

On several levels more grace abundantly flows throughout this story than we may expect. First, this is not an either/or scenario. The master did not say, “You had to either double your investment or else.” The property was generously invested in the servants. Second, there are multiple servants who not only succeed, but in fact double the initial investment made with them. Third, the servant who buries his one talent finds his perspective of the master confirmed, but only after the rest of the story points to the master being the exact opposite of this depiction. The master gives abundantly to all three. The master never gave an edict about returns on investment. The master never expected that the servants do anything but live in abundance themselves, as they celebrate the talent given to each sharing it with others. So what is it that I initially take away from this passage?

The it in the story is God’s reign here and forever. In this feverish atmosphere, as Jesus’ crucifixion looms largely in the background of this story we may be tempted to make everything Jesus says all or nothing. The truth is that the master in this story gave with overabundant generosity; however, if we choose to live in fear believing this world to be about scarcity, then we will miss out on how God’s reign really works. As everything is gift how will I celebrate in the overabundance seeking to expand upon all that has already been given to me?

Possessions

This sermon was inspired by the following readings:

Rom. 13:8–10

Ps. 112

Luke 14:25–33

On Sunday morning I taught a class on some crazy saints known as the Dessert Fathers and Mothers. They were people who—when Christianity became mainstream in the 4th and 5th centuries—decided that they wanted to live outside of the comfortable spot that society was now offering Christians. Previously being a Christian required someone to risk life and limb, as the members of the Early Church cared for the plague-ridden masses, adopted abandoned babies, and were often martyred for their beliefs. Desert Fathers and Mothers thought it only right to keep up the intensity of their Christian forebears.

During this Sunday school class I focused in on several saints including Antony of Egypt. After hearing Jesus’ words on not being anxious about tomorrow, Antony sold his family’s sizeable estate, put his sister in a home for young maidens, and went outside the walls of society to live and pray. He spent twenty years alone. After hearing all of this I asked the class what they thought of Antony. Almost uniformly everyone thought he was crazy.

Their comments varied, but all seemed to have a theme of thinking him out of his right mind. They said things like, “He lived alone for twenty years.” “Why did he leave his sister all alone?” and “He gave up all that he had!” As we continued our conversation in class I found myself thinking that Antony had taken seriously the command that we heard in today’s Gospel account, “None of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”

Often we hear words like this coming out of Jesus’ mouth. A rich young man comes up to him seeking eternal life and even though the man has lived a good life Jesus tells him he lacks one thing. That one thing? Selling all that he has and following Jesus. Jesus challenges those who listen to him to understand that it is very hard for a rich person to make it into heaven. It would be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for the rich person to make it Jesus assures us. We also hear Jesus saying that we cannot serve two masters and where our treasure is there our heart will be also. But every time I hear this crazy message I have almost the exact opposite response as Antony. Instead of letting go of all that I have I find myself fumbling for excuses.

“Well,” I say to myself, “Jesus only means these things figuratively. He doesn’t really want us to give everything away.” The truth is that while the Church often talks about sacrificial, proportional, first-fruits giving God is not interested in that. Or, perhaps better said, God is not only interested in that. Jesus makes it clear that it is not about 10% of our lives, 15% of our lives, or even half our lives—it is about all of our lives. God wants everything. Our whole hearts, our minds, our possessions, our skills, our gifts, our passions, our energy, and everything else. Heck! God will even take our sins, faults, and fears. On the one hand this seems impossibly hard, and yet on the other hand this is completely freeing.

Surprisingly, the first reading from Romans helps me to comprehend of this a little bit more easily. In Paul’s Letter to the Romans we hear several commandments summed up in the way that Jesus synthesized them, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Contained within that statement is the entirety of the laws of God’s people. Now, if you told me that I was going to have to memorize all of those laws, several hundred statues, and follow them like my life depended upon it. Well, I would have a very hard time. But, if you told me what I need to focus on is loving my neighbor as myself I think could do it. It feels much easier. In the same way I think we have this possession thing backwards.

We live in a world that puts our values into a monetary system. The work we do gets symbolized in money. The dollars spent on school, groceries, or utilities are in competition with the ones we want to spend on trips, entertainment, or nice dinner. And we grow up hearing from this world that working hard is enough to earn a living and that is what good, decent people do. And yet, all of this is built upon a false set of beliefs. In truth, we do not own anything and even what we earn is not ours. We come in with only the gift of life and we leave that behind when we die. So what is real? What is true? The truth is that everything—every dollar we earn, every gift we have, every problem we face—everything is a gift from God.

For us to give all of it away is what we will do one day whether we want to do it or not. Jesus in the meantime challenges us to practice giving it all away right now. For us to follow Jesus we must let go. To possess the gift that is life in Christ we must relinquish everything else. In this season of stewardship we are called to practice this giving away as we give to God’s work in the world, but make no mistake… God is not interested in 10% of you, but your entire self!

Grace

This sermon is based on the life of Willibrord and the following readings:

Acts 1:1–9   

Psalm 115:9–15

Luke 10:1–9

Quite often in the Church we talk about grace. For the longest time I did not really understand what we meant. While people assured me that I was receiving it, I did not “get it”—at least in my head. Perhaps this is not surprising grace is a tough concept for us to comprehend. To our human brains we may even think grace is irrational, that it does not make sense. For grace is that love that God has for me, for you, and for everyone else—and that love has no condition attached to it, no string tied onto it, and no rider that stipulates some quid pro quo.

How can it be that God—the source of all creation—wants to love me no matter what? How can that even be possible? I mean I see all the times I mess up, but God still says, “I love you the same.” God says this to you and to all. This does not compute in my feeble mind. While most of my adult life and certainly my life since pursuing ordained ministry has been spent trying to understand this un-understandable gift from God, it continually slides through my fingers like grains of sand. But, the real question I keep bumping up against as it pertains to grace is “Do I have to understand grace to participate in it?” I mean do I have to get it with my mind to receive it and share it? Today, I think we have some help in answering this question.

As you probably already know, today is the Feast Day of Willibrord. Okay, I’m just kidding only Church nerds knew that today we celebrate this bishop who lived in the 7th and 8th centuries. Willibrord’s life and ministry though serve as a helpful analogy for comprehending a little bit better this concept of grace. What the Church best remembers about this Anglo-Saxon bishop focuses around his missionary work to some pagan people in Holland near Frisia in a place called Utrecht (you-‘trect). While this in and of itself is important work, what is helpful for us in our analogy for grace needs a bit larger context.

A hundred years before Bishop Willibrord made his way to the Netherlands the Anglo-Saxon people themselves were first hearing the Good News of Christ Jesus. This was the first time they would have known the gospel, experienced the sacraments, or joined in Christian fellowship. In some ways these gifts the Church offered the Anglo-Saxons are like the gift of grace that God offers to all. While grace remains beautiful, significant, and profound as it is received, what stands out even more about grace is how powerful it becomes when it is shared. In other words, the unconditional love of God is best experienced when it is both received and shared. Just like, the Anglo-Saxon people discovered that the best way to experience Christianity was not only to accept it from Romans, Celtics, and other continental Christians, but also to go and share it with their neighbors along the North Sea.

Grace does not make sense in our heads. However, when we experience the unconditional love of God from neighbors, friends, and family we may catch glimpses of it enough to “get it” in our hearts. Even more though we understand it by passing along unmerited love to those whom we meet. Like the Anglo-Saxon Church who received the Good News of Christ Jesus and then shared it readily through Willibrord the bishop, may we first obtain God’s love and then freely share it with family, friends, and neighbors!

Blessings

What do Presidential motorcades, celebrity sightings, and court-storming fans have to do with Jesus?

This sermon is based on these texts:
Revelation 7:9-17Psalm 34:1-10, 221 John 3:1-3Matthew 5:1-12

I have never personally witnessed a presidential motorcade; however, I have watched enough West Wing and House of Cards to know what happens when the commander-in-chief rolls into one’s city. I have never been present for a massive celebrity sighting; however, I have paid attention enough to the publications in the checkout line at the grocery store to know what happens they venture out into public. I have never attended a game when the underdog pulled such an upset, still I have watched enough sports of TV to know what happens when the clock strikes zero and Goliath has been slain. In each of these cases the response of those surrounding the leader, the star, or the game-winner is the same, namely pandemonium—blocked off streets, people fainting, and fans rushing the ones in the spotlight. So, of course, this was the response when Jesus began his ministry long ago too, right? Hmm…

You may have noticed that we are not where we last left Jesus. It may feel like we have whiplash, as we shift from the culminating moments of Matthew’s Gospel account during Holy Week back to the start when Jesus strolled onto the scene. Before we dive into this almost-too-familiar text that we commonly call the Beatitudes, it would do us some good to explore the build-up that Matthew provides us in the opening chapters of his telling of the Good News.

If this were a movie the narrator would give away a crucial detail about the story even before the opening credits finish rolling. Matthew begins his story by telling us that Jesus is the Messiah. This may not seem weird to us, but imagine being a hearer of this story long ago. On the one hand this seems anticlimactic especially since what follows is a dull genealogy tracing Jesus back to King David. However, on the other hand this crucial detail begins to build up the anticipation around Jesus.

Building upon this proclamation Matthew points out the universal nature of Jesus’ kingly status by describing the journey of the Magi from the East to see the newborn king of the Jews. In the early moments of the tale, the gospel writer also tells of angelic visitors coming to Joseph, the holy family escaping to Egypt, and King Herod viciously murdering the first-born-sons of Bethlehem. If the dreary listing of whom begat who lulled the original audience to sleep these dramatic twists and turns surely would woke them from their slumber. Eventually Joseph brings his family to Nazareth where Jesus grows up. By the time he matures into an adult John the Baptist is venturing out into the wilderness to send the hype surrounding Jesus to atmospheric levels. Soon though it is not only human voices that shine a light on the majesty of Jesus, but God’s own voice also.

God announces at Jesus’ baptism that he is God’s Son, the Beloved, with whom God is well pleased. Instead of dwelling on this proclamation Matthew seizes on this moment to describe Jesus’ flight to the desert and his fight with the Devil there. By the time Jesus calls his first disciple there is so much excitement surrounding him that it puts presidential motorcades, paparazzi, and field-storming fans to shame!

With all this attention, all this build-up, and even the voice of God inaugurating Jesus as God’s beloved Son what might we expect from Jesus’ first public statements? What will be his first teaching? Probably big pyrotechnics through a miracle of some sort, right? Or if not that words that rile up the crowd to get them to change the world. Or, if the crowd got its way some words about overthrowing the occupying Roman forces! Right?! Surely, his words will be about the power that has surrounded the hype of his ministry. Well, none of these things happened. In fact, after the crescendo that built throughout the first four chapters of this Gospel account we may feel like Jesus made his initial public offering through a whimper.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” While this first statement sounds counter-cultural to us, it would have been even more shocking to those who first heard it. Jesus then offers eight other statements about what blessing looks like—not according to the world that props up kings and queens, high priests and governors, gladiators and celebrities, but according to God’s beloved Son.

“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.”

So what does Jesus mean by blessed? Someone who was blessed was one who was spoken well of, fortunate, or even happy. In what world are the mournful happy? How are those who are meek fortunate? Are you really telling me Jesus that someone who is persecuted is spoken well of? This is all a little shocking—it is all a little disorienting—but this is the direction of Jesus’ ministry. Think back over the last few weeks’ Gospel lessons.

At the end of this same Gospel account Jesus focuses his teaching energy upon those who were in power—the presidents, the stars, and the celebrities of the day. Jesus challenged them and he challenges us to see things not through the eyes of the world’s elite, but through the eyes of God—who by the way is quite often viewing things from the outsider perspective of the tax collector, prostitute, or poor beggar.

On some level I hope this is not too shocking to us, I mean this is Jesus. Plus, we have heard Matthew’s upside-down telling of the story since last December. And yet, if we are still not hearing Jesus’ words as outlandish, appalling, and counter-cultural, then your clergy are not doing their jobs the right way. Jesus called his followers and still calls us into a way of life that sees blessings where we ought to see tragedy.

God’s way of blessing sees the mournful receiving comfort, the meek inheriting the earth, and the persecuted dwelling in heaven. Today, we remember all those followers of Jesus—the meek, the mournful, the persecuted, and all the rest—who walk along this way past, present, and yet to come. The world says that people with power or privilege, fame or fortune, stardom or celebrity are blessed (sometimes even #blessed). But, Jesus did not inaugurate his ministry by telling those who surrounded him, “Blessed are the 1%ers for they will get even richer, blessed are the movie stars for they will garner even more fame, and blessed are the politicians for their corrupt way is the right one.” Still, there is one more twist on this audacious way that Jesus walked, the way of all the saints, the way we are invited to walk as well.

A blessing is not something that is earned or achieved, but rather it is something given to us. None of us gain God’s blessings by something we have done. Instead, all are saints by receiving the blessings—as counter-cultural as they may be—from God as complete and total gift. And, no blessing transforms us more than the grace of God’s beloved Son. So on this All Saints’ Sunday may we be saints too, may we receive the blessings of God as hard as they may be, and may we most of all receive and share the unconditional love of God through Christ—for certainly that and not the love of politicians, celebrities, and sports stars is worth celebrating and going crazy over!