Treasure New and Old

What treasure new and old is God calling forth in you?

© Seth Olson 2020
July 26, 2020—Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

1 Kings 3:5-12
Psalm 119:129-136
Romans 8:26-39
Matthew 13:31-33,44-52

You may find a video of this sermon by clicking here (sermon begins at 14:40).

Jesus asked, “Have you understood all this?” The disciples answered, “Yes.” And Jesus replied, “You liars!”

Okay, that’s not how the story went, but come on, the followers of Jesus understood all these parables. They had wise and discerning minds like God granted King Solomon? Are we joking here? The disciples who would soon after Jesus’ crucifixion be hiding in some apartment over a garage in the outskirts of Jerusalem comprehended the magnificent profundity of their rabbi Jesus and his stories… This seems hard to believe, right?

I still don’t think we get what Jesus was saying in most of his parables and we’ve had 2,000 years of practice. However, this lack of full understanding is okay. As Saint Paul put it in our epistle, the Spirit helps in our weakness and intercedes with sighs too deep for words. As we breath in these parables, we gain new insights each time we hear them. Our understanding of the parables moves because parables themselves move. They curve, like parabolas. And, why wouldn’t they?

We are not talking about something static, but the dynamic, ever-expanding, enriching enigma that is the Kingdom of God, the Reign of Christ. Like grasping for an eel, holding onto exactly what the Kingdom of Heaven is remains a slippery endeavor. But, as we struggle God is with us and if God is with us and for us, who can be against us?

Still, we wonder, what’s the Reign of Christ like? Jesus told us and still tells us over and over again. He said, it’s like…

It’s like a mustard seed. That one seems easy enough. It starts small, but given time and light and water it grows. Soon it’s not only good for itself, it’s good for others. Some might rest in its shade. Whew, that sounds nice! Don’t we all want that right now—to rest in God and the shade of what God provides? What else?

The Reign of Christ is like yeast. Oh, we get that one! Maybe those disciples weren’t lying. We put yeast in with flour, water, salt, maybe honey, give it a mix, and put it somewhere warm—what happens? It expands. It grows. Okay, so the Kingdom of God is growing. What else is it?

The Kingdom of heaven, that is where God reigns, is like a treasure. Yes, it is! We can get behind that. Who doesn’t like the idea of finding buried treasure?[1] We yearn for discovering such a gift in our lives. But… if I’m being honest. That parable sounds confusing. The standard interpretation is that one person found, then buried treasure, while another sold everything to go buy the field. This seems to make sense. But, it almost sounds like one person found, then buried treasure, then that same one went and sold everything to reclaim the buried loot. That makes no logical sense, but even that sounds like life in Christ. Listen: sometimes we have to gain it all, then lose it all, just to gain it all again… If you disagree, may I suggest the Book of Job!

Regardless when we compare God’s Kingdom to treasure what we know is that all of us are in search of something that is so captivating that we will give up everything else to take hold of it. That’s definitely what life in Christ is like. We must become less—selling what we have—Christ must become more—taking hold of the treasure.

This happens in a spiritual, but very real way to each of us in Baptism. There we die, so that we might be reborn through Christ and in Christ. RAD! That’s radical, but that’s the Reign of Christ! What else is it like?

The Reign of Christ is like an episode of Antique Roadshow. Wait, that’s not right. That’s not what Jesus said. Still a collector appraised a pearl of great value and upon realizing its value she had to have it. Is this not what the Kingdom of heaven is like? Life with Jesus is so compelling that we want to stop everything else we are doing so that we might live in this new way. That sounds so good right now!

At this very moment don’t we want nothing more than to give away all the craziness of the last five months, so that we might live an abundant life? Except maybe that doesn’t mean we actually give away the last five months or that we have to wait to go somewhere else. Rather, maybe we live this life in a new way right here, right now. In this Gospel lesson, Jesus repeatedly said these things are like the Kingdom of heaven, and now seems like the right time to tell you that heaven is not something that only happens after we die or some other place where we will go.

The Kingdom of heaven started even before the foundation of the universe and it has never stopped. This abundant life permeated the ages of Creation, it lingered in our first parents, and our faith parents (Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Rachel, Moses, Elijah, and Elisha), the prophets, teachers of wisdom, and martyrs. This life became most clear ironically enough in the death and then resurrection of Christ Jesus. So, when the theologian Belinda Carlisle sang, “Oh baby do you know what that’s worth, Oh heaven is a place on earth,” she was not just making a sensational earworm of the 80’s, she was also telling us the truth of the matter. The Kingdom of Heaven is a kingdom here on earth.

What else is it like? Well the Kingdom of heaven is like a net that is cast into the sea and it collects all kinds of fish. As it is brought to the boat, there’s a discerning moment that makes little sense if any at all. The good fish are put in baskets. The bad fish are thrown out. Jesus unpacks this story by saying the angels will collect the righteous ones, while the evil ones are thrown into the fire. However, if we play this story out, aren’t the good fish that are put into baskets actually the ones who are thrown into the fire when they are cooked? And, aren’t the bad fish actually thrown back into their natural habitat where they can live? What does this mean, Jesus?

Maybe it means the last will be first and the first will be last. Maybe it means that the analogy was lost in translation. Or maybe it truly is an invitation into introspection as we discern what parts of our lives are in right relationship with God and neighbor, and what parts need to be thrown out?

Now, all of these interpretations regarding Jesus’ parables may be edifying, beautiful, and helpful. And yet, there exist many other explanations about any one of these descriptions of the Reign of Christ. Truth be told you may interpret any one of these stories in a completely contradictory way than I just did. And, that’s okay!

Instead of arguing about it what might be more useful is looking to where these stories point us. They are intended to inspire us to see God’s Reign here among us. To understand that God is, as our collect put it, our ruler—that is the standard of measuring abundant life. And, God is our guide who helps us pass from temporal to eternal and to see that heaven and earth truly comingle in every moment.

So, maybe we can spend some time thinking what are the modern parables that will help us to know God? The Kingdom of heaven is like a facemask that shields us from harm. God’s Kingdom is like heroic healthcare workers that tirelessly give and give and give again to save others’ lives. It’s like a police officer and a protestor hugging in the street. It’s a pandemic—not of sickness but of compassion. The Kingdom of Heaven is like a UPS driver bringing treasures of all kinds, which reminds me.

There’s one more parable left. After Jesus asked the disciples if they understood all this, which sure (shakes head) we get all this stuff, right? (NO!) Well, then, the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus tells us is like… but that’s not what he said? Jesus said, the scribes who have been trained for the Kingdom of Heaven are like a master of a household who brings out treasure new and old.

This parable is the most important parable we heard today. Mostly because I believe we are in a moment within the history of our world, the history of the Church (Capital C), and the history of our church (All Saints) in which we need to hear this message. We need to embody this story. We must live in this very parable. We are scribes—I know usually they are the foils in stories about Jesus, but not here. We must become these ones who look for and study our world, as we search for insights into what the Reign of Christ looks like. Some of it will look like the treasure we had before this pandemic—hold fast to that which is good! And, some of it will be novel—sing to the Lord a new song! We need it all!

Sometimes we think that because God is eternal and Christ’s love is changeless and the Spirit is always near that we must not change; however, that’s not true. The Church has always been changing and evolving since it began. It didn’t just stay in people’s homes around the Mediterranean. No, it spread and grew and evolved. Some of those changes haven’t been good and some of them have made all the difference. Likewise, some of those things onto which we have held haven’t benefited us, and that is like carrying around a suitcase full of things you don’t need. So, now on this blursday in this season of coronatide, I invite us all to become scribes who are in search of the Reign of Christ all around us.

What forgotten spiritual treasure do you want to bring out that will help you to see heaven on earth? What new gift do you have to share in this moment that helps you to see Christ’s Reign alive and well? We need to find treasure new and old here in the middle of the COVID pandemic, here during this pandemic of racism, here in this transitional time in our parish! Search for the treasure both new and old, and when you find it, share it! For as our Bishop Kee has repeatedly reminded us, we must hold fast to that which is good and sing to the Lord a new song. Amen.

[1] Thousands went in search of Forest Fenn’s buried treasure over the last decade: https://denver.cbslocal.com/2020/07/05/forrest-fenn-treasure-colorado-national-monument-dinosaur/

Signs and Sinning

On Sunday we will hear the lengthy story of Jesus controversially healing a man born blind… on the Sabbath duh duh DUHHHHH!!! After Jesus has given sight to the man via a kind of Siloam spa mud treatment, the Pharisees get their fringes in a wad. Perhaps their frustration stems from the fact that Jesus’ healing work happened on a Saturday—the day of rest in the Jewish culture. BUT, what if these religious leaders were not really concerned with the day of the week or the sign itself? What if something else got in the way of them seeing God’s presence in Jesus’ work?

If one searches throughout John’s telling of the Good News one will not find mention of miracles, instead the Fourth Gospel refers to these profound acts as signs. Signs point in a direction. Signs show where to go. Signs are not themselves the destination, rather they lead to the end. Most signs on roadways, in stores, or guarding property do not care whether it is Tuesday or Sunday. They keep on working no matter the day of the week. Still, the Pharisees made a legitimate argument, Jesus had showed God’s healing power in this world on a day of the week restricted to resting.

Resting is a funny word though. Rest means something more than just doing nothing. Rest points to another word... restoration. Restoration has to do with healing and making one whole. In the first creation story in Genesis, God participated in a time of restoration once God manifested the whole of Creation, which signifies to humans a deep truth about the need for a time set aside to be made whole, just like the Creator. However, if someone has spent every day of his life wanting to be able to see, but lacking sight could he ever feel like he was whole? When something nags at me that I want to change I know I can feel restless. Jesus giving sight to the man born blind made him whole in a new way and fit in with the goal of Sabbath. Jesus' sign pointed to the deeper end of restoration and making all things fully restored. The Pharisees could not see it though, they were indeed blind, though not all of them.

Not all the Pharisees thought what Jesus did was abhorrent. In fact, the text for Sunday expresses, “They were divided.” Some believed that he was not from God because he ignored the traditional Sabbath practice of doing no work. Others though, wondered, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?” This theological argument of the Pharisees raises a tricky question: Can only holy people perform signs of God?

The newly sighted man put it another way later in the story, “We know that God does not listen to sinners.” So that seems to be it, then. God only listens to people who listen to God and who do His will. End of story...

And yet, is that true? Does your own experience of God point to that? Does the rest of Holy Scripture even hold this up? If we answer yes to these questions, God may feel truly lonely up in heaven. As I put it when we read this passage in our staff meeting yesterday, God may be upstairs vacuuming with headphones in if this is the case. (Ann Stewart, our communications director added: Is the vacuum a Dirt Devil?) I cannot imagine a God who does not hear the earnest cry of a downtrodden, penitent sinner!

Maybe your theology, your experience, and your reading of Scripture differ from my own, but even in this story Jesus seems to stamp out the concept that God only listens to the sinless among us (whoever those people may be). “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s work might be revealed in him.” Some will avoid this loaded statement at all costs, but it helps me to see to what Christ Jesus came to point. Christ came to direct us towards and lead us into healing, restoration, and reconciliation. Those things we think of as problems in truth may very well be opportunities that exist, so that God may work in us. God provides us with signs that point us towards new ways of seeing, being healed, and living in Christ. Are we willing to look at them or will we be spiritually blind and miss them altogether?

Pulling Weeds

As a teenager, I never liked pulling weeds in my mother's vegetable garden. I would mow the lawn, edge the spots that the mower missed, and haul limbs or branches to the trash collection area, but kneeling down to pluck up pesky plants... NO, THANKS! Certainly now I feel a bit differently, I enjoy the task of watering, WEEDING, and picking the community garden at St. John's. However, even as I have grown to enjoy this menial work; this coming Sunday's gospel lesson would have been so helpful as an adolescent.

Jesus' parable of the evil sower and its explanation (Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43) describes the Kingdom of Heaven as a place where the evil one plants nutrient sucking weeds right next to the good wheat, and instead of getting rid of the weeds immediately the master tells his servants to let the weeds grow. Why did I not use this great story to get out of weeding as a teenager? It is right here in the text, "Let both of them grow until the harvest." That was my ticket out of all the hard work.

Yet, this parable truthfully does not primarily function as a way to shirk responsibility in our backyards, rather like most (if not all of his) parables Jesus challenges us to see a glimpse of the Kingdom of Heaven within a simple story. I often find myself looking for my place in the Kingdom. Maybe you do this as well. How can we not put ourselves in there? Yet, as we insert ourselves as is into this story or last week's Parable of the Sower we believe that we understand the parable, or worse we make the parable about ourselves (and not having to pick weeds).

As Steve Pankey recently stated in his blog "As soon as one thinks they’ve grasped the meaning of a parable, they’ve lost it." We can believe that the meaning of a parable is all about us and how great we are, what good soil we are, or what great wheat we have become. Jesus though uses these many images (shepherds, farmers, a woman searching for her coin, two brothers and a father, a mustard seed, and on and on) to describe as many different vantage points within the Kingdom of Heaven, the Kingdom of God, for us, so that we might just catch a glimpse of how life can be with God.

So often, I want to find my place in the parable so that I do not have to change my life. Just about every time I read a story about Jesus I try to make it about me and my life. While this is human nature to a certain extent, Jesus tells these simple stories not to build up our egos, not to make us feel good about who we are, not to hand us a worthless participation trophy, but to plant a good seed within us. Only Christ's goodness places this within us, but we are not incapable of messing with the seed's growth. We can ignore the hard work of looking inside and seeing how Christ would grow us through these stories, we can place ourselves in the story as is and cheapen the power of the parables, or God's Word can convict us to be transformed by the healing love of Christ. I say, let it grow.

Matthew 5:13-20: Salt, Light, and Shame

There have only been a handful of times when I have really gotten into real trouble in my life. I mean the type of trouble where one is called to the principal's, camp director's, or coach's office. It is funny how those particular memories are etched into the fabric of my being. Shame cannot come out with just one wash, instead it takes years of spinning around and rinsing. I can remember one such encounter very vividly.

I had done something at camp that was a clear violation of the rules. When the camp director confronted my cohorts and me, we were all very meek, humiliated, and saddened by our thoughtless behavior. Still, I felt that I was more guilty by association than an outright offender and in a private meeting I pleaded my case. One of the camp matriarchs found out about trying to pass the buck, and she simply said, "If a man does not have his word, what does he have?" My mouth gets dry thinking about that moment. As if I had just swallowed salt water, yet it seemed that I had lost my saltiness.

This coming Sunday's gospel follows the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12):
"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
"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."

Jesus' short list of those who are blessed enlightens this message about salt and light. The poor, those who mourn, the meek, the hungry, the merciful, the pure, the peacemakers, and the righteously persecuted all receive blessings. To be blessed is to be salt and to be light. I imagine most of us at some point have been one of these blessed. Yet, for us to deny this blessing is for us to lose our saltiness and to block out the light. While I am not one for using shame as punishment, there is a difference between denying the Truth to avoid the shame of punishment and recruiting shame as a fear tactic. In my moment of denial I lost my saltiness, I blocked out the light of what it is to be blessed.

Now, I am not condoning seeking delinquent, illicit, or immoral behavior for the sake of experiencing some sort of persecution. Rather, I am saying that in our poverty, sorrow, meekness, hunger, mercy, purity, peace-seeking, and persecuted states we receive God's presence. When we are in a rather impoverished spiritual state we can clearly see God walking with us in ways that are not always apparent when we are riding high spiritually.

Additionally, I do not think getting in trouble for not following camp rules constitutes righteous persecution, rather in the shamed state I occupied, I clearly felt a closeness with God who called me into a deeper relationship. Jesus fulfilled the Law not so we could ignore it, but so that we might with him feel blessings and keep growing deeper in our saltiness and our lightness. Now I wonder, "How do we teach that we are blessed in our weakness without instilling shame in one another?"

Matthew 1:18-25: Defying Our Own Good Intentions

This week's gospel (for Advent 4, Year A in the Revised Common Lectionary: Matthew 1:18-25) opens in a very matter of fact manner, "Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way." Then, unlike the Gospel of Luke, which our Nativity-focused culture tends to love, we hear about Joseph and not Mary. The Eastern Orthodox Church calls Mary theotokos, or God bearer, and with them I heartily rejoice in her willingness to continually say "yes" to God, which is so beautifully described in the Third Gospel's stories. Yet, when I put myself in Joseph's shoes I find his own response to Christ's coming into the world another complete act of Faith in God's working among us.

Joseph was a righteous man, we discover from Matthew's words, and he was going to do the noble thing when he found out that Mary was with child. He was to "dismiss her quietly" from their engagement. Ending a proposed marriage in a small town, like Bethlehem, would hardly be a quiet act, but Joseph set about accomplishing this before he lay down for sleep one night. Joseph held as his intention that no shame be brought unto Mary, and this points to the virtuous way in which this son of David lived his life. Today, we still have disparity in the way in which men and women are treated, especially around issues of sexuality and "illegitimate" pregnancy, so for Joseph to do as he was planning was indeed outstanding and righteous! Yet, all of Joseph's good intentions were dwarfed by what God had in store for him through the Holy Spirit and his partner Mary.

The angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream telling him not to be afraid of taking Mary as his wife. Upon awaking Joseph who was so convinced by the vision that he did as the messenger told him. Yet, we must be careful not overlook the riskiness of this move from a societal perspective. If anyone found out that Mary's child was not Joseph's own, he would have been scorned, shamed, and humiliated by those around him. One's status in Jewish society in the First Century would have been correlated with her or his moral credibility. Joseph's livelihood depended upon the respect of others. So for Joseph to go from a quiet dismissal, which would have been in and of itself risky, to something that could have led to complete societal isolation himself shows just how profound Joseph's faith in God was after having this dream. So what does Joseph's faith show us?

I believe, as strange as it sounds, that Jesus really was born of the Holy Spirit within Mary. I believe that an God truly spoke to Joseph in a dream. I believe that Joseph was indeed a righteous man intending to do what was least shameful to Mary, yet God's will can defy even our best intentions. God's salvific (salvation-focused) work does not typically happen in a manner that appears logical to us. Remember from this last week's gospel, Jesus referred to the great John the Baptist saying, "the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he," and elsewhere that even the wisest on earth are fools in the kingdom of heaven. So even those who appear to be most "godly," "righteous," or "Christ-like" and even we who work towards the best laid plans can often come up lacking. This does not appear to be very good news on the surface: even my best intentions, even my righteous ways, and even my best attempts are not always in line with what God is doing.

However, good news rests just beneath the surface, or better yet, just behind our sleepy eyelids. In a season when we are warned to keep awake (for we know not when God will come like a thief in the night), the good news for Joseph appears ironically when he is sleeping. For Joseph his ways are righteous, but they are not God's most abundant will. God's work sometimes will come in such a way that we cannot even believe it, nor understand it. This is so hard for me as a rational, intellectual, and heady person. How can Mary be a virgin? How can Joseph stand by her? How can God actually come into the world? The difficulty is in resisting the urge to attempt to explain away God's Mysteries. Maybe that is an unsatisfying answer, but God's will brings comfort in that we do not have understand everything, that we cannot prove beyond a shadow of a doubt Mary's virginity, Joseph's dream, or Jesus' divinity. Leaning into the mysteries of God, withholding our attempts to explain away God's ways, and living into Faith allows for the gift of grace to transform our own righteous intentions into God's miraculous working in the world.    

Luke 21:5-19: When Practice Doesn't Make Perfect

"So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict."

"Practice makes perfect" is one of those sayings that I took to heart from an early age. I was never the tallest, the fastest, the most athletic, or the best skilled player on any of the soccer teams that I played on as a kid. So what I lacked in ability I tried to make up for in effort... AND PRACTICE (Sorry Allen Iverson, I'm talking about practice). I practiced and practiced and practiced. Everyday of the week, every week of the month, every month of the year, I practiced. Through that time I was urged on by the thought that if I practice hard enough, then I will be prepared to play a perfect game.
Sometimes this mentality creeps up in me as I prepare for something upcoming in the life of the parish. In particular, I think, "If I can practice hard enough, then I will preach a perfect sermon and everyone will walk away saying things like, 'Wow, I really want my spiritual life to grow!' and 'I can't wait to serve at St. John's Church more often!' and maybe even, 'That Seth really can preach!'" Yet, this upcoming Sunday's gospel from Luke describes a very different vision than practice makes perfect.
One day, according to Jesus, the religious and political structures will begin to fall, and wars and earthquakes will shake the earth, and famines and plagues will encircle the globe. At that point those who follow Jesus will be given an opportunity to testify. Well, the truth is our earthly systems continue to fail, wars and natural disasters continue to cripple nations, and food shortages and disease kill thousands every day. All that Jesus has said is going to happen is already happening and has been happening since he ascended into heaven. We have the opportunity RIGHT NOW to speak in his name, so what is stopping us?

I often wonder, what does it mean then to testify to God? Does it mean that we have to rehearse some Bible verses that we shoot at unsuspecting passersby? Maybe. Does it mean that we memorize some passionate narrative about turning away from a life of sin? Perhaps. Does it mean participating in dramatic debate about all of the signs (earthquakes, wars, famines, etc.) pointing to Jesus' impending return? Probably not. I think to testify is to engage in honest conversations and instead of "preparing [our] defense in advance," we leave our defenses down.

When we come in defenseless we can more honestly engage with those whom we might see as enemies. God already gives us words and wisdom if we would just slow down enough to listen to what is being said within our hearts, minds, and spirits. If we come in having a practiced script we might be too tied up in spitting out what we want to say. We might miss that our supposed opponents are just like us. We might miss that God removes those things that stand in the way of connecting with our opponents. We might miss that no division exists in God's reality, they are merely our own fabrication.

There are certainly things to practice in this world. Yet, there is one area where not practicing leads to perfection. When we talk to our "opponents" leave the memorized monologues behind and rely upon taking down our defenses, so that we stand together on the sacred ground that we share in interacting with one another. Christ will give us the words to say, but only if we first remove our shields of apprehension, fear, prejudice, doubt, and hatred.

Loving Father, you constantly give us words and wisdom, I ask that You help us to remove anything that we build up between each another, that we might see that Your Kingdom is that space that exists between us, and that we are the ones who are charged with revealing it to one another. All this we ask through the loving example of Jesus your Son, and the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen!