Participate In The Party

 

The actions of the king in today's parable leave us scratching our heads. What good news is here for us?

At almost every wedding I have been to something goes wrong. Maybe, it’s the sweet flower girl dumping the whole basket out halfway down the aisle. Perhaps, it’s the unexpected rain shower that completely drenches the entire ceremony. Or, it could even be the groom saying the bride’s name is Rachel instead of Emily, as famously depicted in the show Friends. However, I have never been to a wedding that has quite so many wrong turns as the one in today’s Gospel lesson.

If you think this story is ridiculous and are concerned about the events that take place around this wedding ceremony, you are right! I mean this story is upsetting. Sure, we can laugh off the invited guests dismissing the first invitation—who hasn’t missed a wedding because of work or a football game? We can smirk as the father of the groom sends a second message, this time with the delicious menu detailed—food will surely get them to show up! However, when the invitees murdered the messengers, we surely move from charmingly intrigued to wholly disgusted. I know I am perplexed by this—does this sort of thing happen at other weddings for royalty?

Looking at the 2018 Royal Wedding between Meghan Markle and Prince Harry—the one at which our own Presiding Bishop absolutely nailed the homily—what happened when guests didn’t show? It is hard to say if any invited guests were no shows. According to one report[1] there were 20 celebrities who were either snubbed or didn’t bother to turn up, but they didn’t murder the curriers who brought their invites. So, shooting the messenger is not normal for royal weddings!

And while Queen Elizabeth may have her problems with no-longer-Prince Harry who has abdicated his royal responsibilities, I do not believe she has besieged even his estate, which is unlike the king from today’s story. So, what is happening in today’s Gospel lesson—this is weird behavior, even for a parable.

Parables are meant to show us what the Reign of God looks like, but certainly this story goes off the rails of what Jesus’ Kingdom is like, right? Those invited to the prince’s wedding killed the messenger. The king responded by murdering his own subjects and burning down his own city. How did the stakes get raised so high, so fast—from polite invitation to scorched earth in just 3 verses? If this violence were not weird enough, the wedding is still going to happen.

Imagine this for just a second. You are the caterer for a royal wedding. Suddenly, the wedding planner approaches you to say, “Can you make sure the mini-quiches don’t chaff? The wedding guests are going to be awhile, the Father of the Groom has gone to burn down a city, and he invited a bunch of strangers to the reception.” WHAT? Think about the poor bride and the in-over-his-head wedding celebrant who is trying to manage all these personalities. So, if you haven’t picked up on it already, this story is intentionally over-the-top. It isn’t simply about the Reign of God in general—it’s an allegory for the in-breaking Way of Christ in late 1^st Century Palestine.

This is not a story about someone’s wedding. We can let go of our own projections of how terrifying this would be if it happened at a loved one’s ceremony. This isn’t meant to be a realistic story—it’s an intentionally audacious allegory crucial to understanding Matthew’s community that was a part of the Early Church.

Now, I’ll be honest in these disrupted times that we are living through I was not happy to pull this Gospel when I saw the preaching schedule. It is really disturbing to read something really disturbing when we are already really disturbed, but maybe—just maybe—knowing that this is an unrealistic tale—even for a parable—will allow us to see this story with new eyes. So, with these new eyes I have three questions: 1. Why is this such a violent and high stakes story? 2. What does this allegory tell us about the Early Church? and 3. Is there any truth or Good News here for us?

First, why so violent and high stakes? This story is so aggressive because when Matthew shared it his community was engaged in an all-out struggle for existence. This was not a battle pitting Christians against Jews. It was an intermural conflict within Judaism.[2] The Early Church thought of themselves, especially within Matthew’s community, as faithful Jews who were responding to God’s call for them. The story was so violent because this community was facing existential threat. So, this helps us understand the allegory a bit better, which gets us to the second question.

What does this allegory tell us about the Early Church? In the late 1^st Century this story would have resonated with its one to one comparisons being made. Matthew’s Community would have seen themselves as the faithful ones who came to the party after the original invitees turned down their opportunity. Their Jewish brothers and sisters who ignored the Messiah’s coming in the person of Jesus were depicted as the ones who ignored the wedding feast. The burning city would have called to mind Jerusalem, which was besieged in the year 70. Matthew’s community may have even seen this attack on the Holy City as God’s judgment because the religious leaders had ignored the prophets and these new bearers of God’s good news in Christ.

If this is where the allegory stopped though, it would be horrific, as it would have only focused on the wrongs of others, specifically the synagogue down the street. Sadly, this story has been manifested to harbor Antisemitism and violence against our Jewish friends for far, far too long, but Matthew was not Antisemitic. His community was at least partially Jewish, and in the end this allegory is critical of his own community.

As one scholar put it, Matthew was not “working out some rhetorical violence against opponents, and assuring his own community that they are on the right side of salvation history,”[3] for at the end of this story, the king strikes once more.

When the king spotted one of the guests pulled in from the street wearing plain clothes, the monarch lost it. He said, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” — “Who wears a t-shirt to a black-tie party?” Then, this guest gets tossed out by the bouncers, not out of the party, but out of the still burning city—where real bad stuff happens like sobbing over the state of your soul and worrying over your spiritual existence. If this is an allegory what does this stand for?

Proper clothing, wedding clothing equates to being ready to live by the community’s standards. You might ask, “If one were pulled off the street to attend a wedding would that one really have on wedding clothes? Who walks around in a tuxedo or a ball gown?” Again, this is not a realistic story, it is allegory. Matthew’s community demanded living by rigorous requirements, so through this story he was saying, “we cannot be self-satisfied.” Matthew here was willing to point out the plank in his group’s own eye, not just the sawdust residing in the eye of a neighboring group.

For Matthew’s community, the wild, unpredictable king has flung wide open his gates. Everybody—I mean everyone, good, bad, and indifferent—gets invited! What happens, though when you walk into the feast? Or, what Matthew was getting at—what happens after you joins this new way, do you get complacent? What about us? After we commit to following Christ, are we to fret over the king coming by? Are we to live by the old adage, “Hurry up, look busy, Jesus is coming?” I don’t think that’s the point here, but it begs the question, is there truth or Good News here for us?

In this world of the parable the guest from the street got thrown out not simply because of the lack of wedding robes. Sure, the whole story throws us off. It is violent and odd, but what may seem most off is this little detail. He got thrown out for wearing the wrong attire—this is not an episode of “What Not To Wear”!

Like Charles said last week, parables break down at some point and here is where this one breaks down. This guest gets tossed out for not wearing the right clothes, for not following the rules. Jesus was one who did not follow the rules. Jesus intentionally broke the rules around Sabbath, eating, and healing. He befriended the wrong people, touched the wrong people, and loved the wrong people. So, this detail about the rules and the robes causes this entire parable to shift, or rather it causes me to shift my thinking about what the truth is, what the good news here is for us.

This is not a story about rules. It is a parable about participation in a party. The one thrown out was thrown out for not joining the fun. This was not just some party, but the most festive feast of all time—the wedding, which through Christ forever unites earth and heaven, heaven and earth. Even the usually somber theologian Karl Barth put it this way, “In the last resort, it all boils down to the fact that the invitation is to a feast, and that he who does not obey and come accordingly, and therefore festively, declines and spurns the invitation no less than those who are unwilling to obey and appear at all.”[4] In other words, whether we ignore God’s countless invitations to join the party or we come to the feast without joy in our hearts it is the same—we are foregoing the life-altering love that God has for each of us.

Thus, the Good News for us is that the Reign of Christ is an already inaugurated, but still not fully realized feast that breaks through the bounds of time and space. We participate in it at this feast every week. However, if I have learned anything over the last seven months of upheaval and not having Communion weekly it is that I need the Holy Eucharist! We are made from the Communion of the Father, Son, and Spirit, so of course we crave it. What is more, even if I am joyful coming to the feast, I am even more joyful departing it. We are to take this party wherever we go. God’s feast is too big to be constrained to one day a week or fixed to one place.

 The Good News for us is that we are not to worry about whether we are wearing a tuxedo or a tuxedo t-shirt, an evening gown or a night gown. Rather we are to cloth ourselves in the majesty of God and the joy of this feast! We have been invited to the greatest party of all time! Allow the elation of this feast, which forever unites earth and heaven, heaven and earth, allow this to permeate into all of our lives. For this isn’t just some wedding, we are joining the greatest party that has ever happened. So, let us not just keep the feast, but take it with us always! Amen.

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[1] Megan Decker and Jennifer Algoo. “20 Celebrities Who Didn't Get Invited to the Royal Wedding.” https://www.harpersbazaar.com/celebrity/latest/g20720710/who-didnt-go-to-meghan-markle-prince-harry-royal-wedding/ [written: May 20 2018, accessed: October 9, 2020].

[2] Lance Pape. Working Preacher. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14.” https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2204 [written: October 12, 2014; accessed: October 9, 2020].

[3] Lance Pape. Working Preacher. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14.” https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2204 [written: October 12, 2014; accessed: October 9, 2020].

[4] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, II/2 (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1957), 588, quoted in Jarvis, Cynthia A., “Matthew 22:1-14: Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, Volume 2, Chapters 14-28, WJK, 2013, 186.

Identity Crisis

Jesus' coming as the Messiah was even more disruptive than moving from a rotary phone to a smart phone.

 

© Seth Olson 2020
August 23, 2020—Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost  

Isaiah 51:1-6
Psalm 138
Romans 12:1-8
Matthew 16:13-20

Video of today's sermon may be found here: https://vimeo.com/450836046

O God, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be cunning enough to know the same. Amen.

This week school started for many in our community. We prayed for our students, their parents, as well as teachers, administrators, and staff beginning this academic year both last week and earlier this morning. The usual emotions of excitement, anticipation, and curiosity are tinged with anxiety, trepidation, and fear—it is as challenging a start to a new school year as has ever been.

This is not to say that school wasn’t hard enough already. It was! While our children and adolescents are learning science, math, language, history, social studies, the arts, and sports, they are also discovering who they are. They are figuring out their identity. Learning to fully accept who we are is a life-long journey, and it has always been tough. Still it feels especially tough right now. I feel for not only our children and teens, but all of us as we navigate who we are and who we are becoming in this ever-changing world. We are not alone in this self-discovery though.

In today’s Gospel lesson we observe Jesus wondering the all-important question “Who am I?” with his closest followers. He first asked them a safer version of the question, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” (It would be like me asking, “What are people saying about the 30-something-year-old Associate Rector at All Saints?”) Jesus did not refer to himself directly, but used a title—“Son of Man”—that he often applied to himself. And he did not ask the disciples point blank, but instead allowed them to crowd-source their reply.   

Jesus did not go so far as to ask the disciples for the wrong answers only, but the crowd’s understanding of Jesus was nonetheless off the mark. The masses believed Jesus to be the recently martyred John the Baptist or a longer dead prophet like Jeremiah or Elijah. We will come back to these incorrect answers in a moment, but first Peter tells us the truth of who Jesus is. In the midst of all the healings, teachings, and confrontations with the Pharisees, God had opened Simon’s eyes to the truth. When Jesus asked, “Who do you say that I am?” Simon replied, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

By merely uttering these words Simon underwent a transformation from a struggling follower to the Rock of the Church. To behold Jesus as the Messiah—the Savior—the One coming to save the world is enough to change anyone’s life. Jesus gave Simon the nickname Peter (the Rock) because he had—with God’s help—realized this truth before any of the other disciples. We would be wise to remember that Mary, the Magi, John the Baptist, the Canaanite woman, and others had discerned this earlier in Matthew’s Gospel account. Still, this acknowledgment of who Jesus truly was, and who he still is—the Messiah, the Christ—has the power to transform not just Simon, but us too. Now, what about these other answers? What about the wrong assertions of who Jesus was? Why might they be useful to us?

The crowds professed that Jesus was John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah, or another prophet. With 2,000 years of hindsight we can clearly tell these answers are wrong, but they help us nonetheless. The crowd’s responses all had in common that they were prophetic voices from the Jewish Tradition. In other words, they were known commodities. The crowds would have heard Jesus and recognized echoes from their people’s past. Sometimes, as human beings, we have a hard time understanding something or someone as wholly new, and we try to put them into an already existing category or box. It’s challenging for us to face a completely novel and disrupting force—even if it is good for us. Let me give you a modern analogy.

Do you remember rotary phones? If you are younger than me you may not even know what a rotary phone is, but it was the way that people used to have to make phone calls (mimic dialing with rotary). It was a slow process. But, then came along the touch-tone or keypad phone. It was a big advancement, but still an “incremental improvement.” It would be like going from one prophet to another. More recently though there has been much more disruptive advancement … “combining a phone, a camera, a computer, a music library and player, a GPS device, and a mobile Internet portal,”[1] as phones evolve into smart phones. Jesus’ coming was not a rotary phone evolving into a keypad phone, but rather it was much more unsettling—like going from no phone to a smart phone overnight.

This analogy though can be harnessed to talk not only about Jesus’ coming and his disrupting of the systems of the day, but also to the current moment. We are in a disruptive era. Even before the pandemics we now face, we were looking at times of change, especially in the Church. Long held institutions (including religious ones) coming under greater scrutiny, seven-day work week schedules, and the appeal of other interests have made it less likely for some to find merit in traditional, Sunday morning church. Unlike in previous decades it has not been enough to hang a church sign and open the doors, and that is even more true since March.

If we were already experiencing such a time of upheaval, and now we are facing these pandemics, we cannot simply try to go back to the way things were. The bell cannot be unrung—the toothpaste cannot go back in the tube—the smart phone is not exchanged for the rotary phone. I had a New Testament professor who warned against jumping from one Gospel account to another—what she calls “making Gospel soup,”[2] but disruptive times call for disruptive measures. This moment calls for jumping from Matthew’s account to John’s telling of the Good News where we hear Jesus say one must be born again. This does not mean, as Nicodemus thought, we go through the womb a second time. Rather, in such a challenging age, we are being called to be spiritually reborn. Honestly, we have always been called to this divine rebirthing, but it just has not been so dramatic in any of our lifetimes.  

We are in an unprecedented time. We are facing seemingly endless challenges on manifold fronts. This is not a rotary phone evolving into a keypad one. This feels like going from the stone ages to the internet age overnight. In the middle of these challenging times we might be wondering who are we as a Church and who am I as an individual? Whether we are heading back to school, trying to navigate new work realities, struggling with unemployment, facing isolation, or worrying about our own health or that of our family, we are all trying to figure out who we are in this new day. Who am I now? Who are we going to be as the Church now?

These questions are so crucial that they—on top of everything else—may make us feel like we are collapsing under the weight of it all. Ugh! These questions are important—don’t get me wrong. I love wondering about them and about who we are, but there is still an even more important question.

Like Simon we are called to wonder about Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” How will we answer? If we take hold of Jesus not just as a teacher, healer, and disruptive force, but also as a Savior, something changes. So often I find myself trying to save myself instead of resting in the truth that Christ has come to make me—and all of us—whole. We cannot save ourselves and as I let this sink in the words from a Gospel lesson several weeks back flood into my heart: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”[3]

Yes, we will not come out on the other side of these pandemics the same way we came into them. Yes, it is crucial to wonder who we are and who we are becoming. Yes, this has been and is a disruptive age. But the biggest yes is that in God we can rest, in God we can trust and not be afraid, in God is our hope, and whatever it is we are going through we can know fully that God is with us.

As you answer who you are remember also whose you are. For we all belong to God. May we rest in this truth, especially as face such disrupting times.

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[1] Brian McLaren, “A Disruption of the Spirit” from Center for Contemplation and Action Daily Mediations, Wednesday, August 19, 2020: https://cac.org/a-disruption-of-the-spirit-2020-08-19/.

[2] The Rev. Dr. Cynthia Kittredge was fond of saying this to my seminary New Testament class.

[3] Matthew 11:28-30 https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew+11%3A28-30&version=NRSV.

 

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/

The Impossible Journey

Jesus sent his disciples out like sheep among wolves

© Seth Olson 2020
June 15, 2020—Second Sunday after Pentecost
Exodus 19:2-8a 

Psalm 100 

Romans 5:1-8 

Matthew 9:35-10:8(9-23)

View today’s sermon by clicking here (sermon begins at 16:05).

O God, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be cunning enough to know the same. Amen.


I love going on trips. I imagine I am not alone in loving to travel—you too may love leaving home for a few days. These months of the Coronavirus Pandemic have meant less travel throughout the world. It’s been awhile since I packed up a suitcase and prepared to go somewhere. But, whenever I have taken a journey in the past I have relished the opportunity not only to take a trip but also to get ready for that trip. Regardless of whether the journey is business or pleasure, I tend to live by the Scouts’ motto: “Be prepared”—I am an over-packer. In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus was sending out his disciples on a business trip, but unlike a good scout the disciples were told to take nothing with them. Why?

Now sometimes in Gospel stories we find that Jesus does not provide us with particularly practical advice. Letting weeds grow up next to wheat, not building bigger facilities to house excess grain, or leaving 99 sheep to find a lost one—none of these morals are real-world instructions. For Jesus was not focused on what seemed wise according to the world, but instead he offered heaven-wise suggestions that would reveal God’s reign here on earth. So, what can we learn about God’s reign from the following packing list?

Take:
-No money
-No bag
-No extra clothes
-No backup shoes
-No staff for support or security

What does this tell us? If Jesus was not living by the Scouts’ motto and was not focused on doling out practical advice, what did these instructions have to do with God’s reign? As we ponder what Jesus was asking his disciples to do, it might be helpful to take a look at who he was sending out in the first place.

In today’s Gospel lesson we hear the word apostles, for the only time throughout Matthew’s Gospel account. Apostles means ones who are sent. The list of ones being sent out to proclaim the good news starts with Peter, the de facto leader, who would deny Jesus thrice, and it ends with Judas whose very name is synonymous with betrayal—I mean how many people named Judas do you know? These bookends tell us something. Plus, there is a set of brothers who bicker over who is better, Thomas whose very name is connected to doubting, Matthew, who was a symbol of oppression by the Roman occupiers, as he was a tax collector, and Simon the Canananean who was a radical anti-Roman zealot. This was not prudent, Jesus.

Jesus called weak leaders, traitorous weaklings, squabbling siblings, doubters, and clashing hotheads into his inner circle. Why not hire away the best marketer from the Roman Empire? Weren’t there some excellent preachers Jesus could have recruited from Jerusalem? This group of apostles was not the All-Star squad God incarnate should have put together to change the world. And on top of this, Jesus did not even give these ones he was sending the proper tools to succeed. How were they to complete their mission without the winning wardrobe or cash to buy a decent meal? Which gets us back to our earlier question: what did Jesus’ instructions to this rag-tag crew have to do with God’s reign?

Jesus called together a lackluster group of flawed human beings, then gave them a seemingly faulty set of instructions for entering their first mission as his disciples, and yet, as a result of them trusting Jesus, they helped spark a worldwide movement that is still going to this day. The disciples witness to us that when we have faith in God what is possible expands. God is calling us to readjust our perspective, our goals, and our view of what leads to success. We are to see on earth as it is in heaven.

If God can transform this motley group of disciples into the foundation of the Church, then what does this say to us as we face myriad obstacles? What does this story tell us as we confront the challenges of a global pandemic, a long overdue reckoning around racial injustice, a continuing environmental crisis, a financial recession, and the difficulty of saying goodbye to our beloved long-time rector who will soon be the 12th Bishop of Alabama? Can we overcome all of these challenges? Later in Matthew’s Gospel account Jesus will give us an answer, “For mortals it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”[1]

With God all things are possible, but to realize this the disciples had to stop relying upon their own gifts and merits. The mission of those twelve was to proclaim good news, that the kingdom of heaven—God’s reign had come near. They were to be an extension of Jesus’ own ministry by curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing lepers, and casting out demons. As if this does not sound difficult enough, Jesus used a metaphor to describe their mission: “I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves.” There were beatings, court proceedings, and households divided. In the midst of this, the apostles were not to have prepared stump speeches, rather they were to rely upon God’s Spirit speaking through them. They were to trust that with God all things are possible.

I have a lot of J tendencies on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which means I like to plan things out. I have to put “be spontaneous” onto my calendar for it to happen. Relying on the Spirit, especially relinquishing control in the moment sounds foolish at best—until I start to look back at heroes in our Faith. Moses relied on God to speak through him when facing Pharaoh and freeing God’s people from slavery.[2] The Apostles trusted God, as filled with the Holy Spirit after Pentecost they took Christ’s message to all parts of the known world.[3] During the Reformation leaders across Europe led by the Spirit decentralized the power of the Church, so that all could experience the grace of God.[4] Women like Hildegard, Theresa of Avila, and Julian of Norwich, were so far ahead of their time that we are still unpacking their Spirit-drenched, mystical works. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. trusted the Spirit too. He was going to end his speech during the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom without telling the world about his dream until the Spirit spoke through Mahalia Jackson who pleaded, “Tell ‘em about the dream, Martin.”[5] We have to trust God, but that’s not easy.

It’s easy to look at the challenges we face today and to envision them as waves as tall as the Empire State Building ready to crash over us—on our own these are impossible to confront, but we are not alone. In all the challenges and changes we are facing today God is with us, but God calls us to trust. This means that we have to let go of the manifold items that might make us feel safe. We are not going to make it if we keep gripping ever-more-tightly to that which makes us feel secure and comfortable. How can we take hold of God’s hand if we are clinging to something else? Like those disciples who went out without anything, so they could trust God in everything, we must relinquish our own baggage too. And much of what we must put down is not items that will fit in a suitcase.

We must put down our institutional sexism, our systemic racism, our transphobia, and homophobia; our cynicism and self-righteousness; our overindulgent love of material goods; our lust for people, things, and experiences; our judgment of people because of their height, weight, age, income, or intellectual ability; our disregard for God’s Creation and those who come after us; our intractable political differences and perceived superiority because of our affiliations; our distrust of people who pray, vote, think, act, or live differently than we do. These items do not belong in our suitcases.

When we no longer rely on these proverbial security blankets, when diminish our reliance upon feeding our own egos, when we do not bring all the stuff that falsely causes us to believe we are superior to our neighbors, then we start to see our neighbor not as someone disconnected from us, but as one who is made in the image of God, just like us. And the only way we are going to confront the challenges of our day is united together with our neighbors. To love our neighbor as ourselves we first must put down all the luggage that causes us to think that we are somehow better than them. But, how?

We must start in prayer, as we move from the center of our own lives—that is we must contemplate the ultimate truth that God is God and we are not. We are made in God’s image, but are not God. Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory—not mine.

Next, we must consciously take stock in our lives recognizing the excess baggage that we carry around with us. This takes introspection. It requires us to not only get out of our echo chambers, but to read, watch, and listen to authors, filmmakers, musicians, and thinkers that may make us uncomfortable with the way we have individually and collectively lived our lives.[6]

Then, we must repent or turn back to God and away from the thoughts, actions, and behaviors that have intentionally or unintentionally put us into positions of power or superiority over our neighbors. If we truly want to fulfill the mission of the Church—to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ[7]—then we must first unpack this baggage before we can proceed farther on this journey.

We are all called to come on a journey with Jesus. Alone it is an impossible trip, but we are not alone. On this way God calls us to let go of the baggage, which makes us believe we are better, superior, or independent from one another. On this impossible journey we are called to rely not on ourselves but on God who is three-in-one—perpetual, united diversity. We are going on an impossible journey, but with God all things are possible.


[1] See Matthew 19:26.
[2] See Exodus 4.
[3] See Acts starting in Chapter 2.
[4] Martin Luther, Thomas Cranmer, John Calvin, and others brought Scripture, Liturgy, and Theology to people in their own language.
[5] Gary Younge. “Martin Luther King: the story behind his 'I have a dream' speech.” The Guardian. [Written Aug. 09, 2013; Accessed June 14, 2020: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2013/aug/09/martin-luther-king-dream-speech-history].
[6] There are so many people and works from whom we as white people must learn, so that we may become allies to our fellow children of God who are people of color, but as pertains to learning about systemic racism I recommend starting here: https://www.npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2020/06/06/871023438/this-list-of-books-films-and-podcasts-about-racism-is-a-start-not-a-panacea.
[7] An Outline of the Faith: Commonly called the Catechsim. Book of Common Prayer, 855.