So let’s pretend for a moment that we do understand the social setting in which the parable takes place.  It is a social setting where pecking orders are real, where the most important guests may indeed arrive last or late, where folk tend to assume privilege and think more highly of themselves than they ought to think.  Given these social realities, Jesus’ advice sounds wise, and is like several proverbs sharing the same advice.  If you are going to be moved, better to be moved up than down. 

Such a strategy, of course, involves a certain level of risk.  What happens if you take the lower seat, and the host does not move you closer to him?  Now what?  There you are, stuck looking unimportant, like some distant relative or a partner in a bad business deal.  You are down with the folk who barely made it in the door, the ones who got invited only so there wouldn’t be left-overs.  The other caution about this stragety is that humility can be faked.  If we can scheme our way through, then humility will lead to recognition and esteem, as everyone sees the host moving us closer to his table.  Won’t that be grand?   All this begs the question, what is Jesus’ point?  What does any of this have to do with the reign of God which his presence on earth begins? 

A few things come to mind.

Grabbing for ourselves is not part of living in God’s reign.  If the poor, the meek, the hungry, and the thirsty are blessed, then those who attempt to secure their place in this world are missing the mark.  Grabbing for ourselves is another way of understanding God’s complaint in the lesson from Jeremiah.  Who would trade in life-giving water for what’s been sitting in a leaking cistern?  Who would refuse the gift of ever-flowing streams for worked-for stale water?  Apparently, we all would, and do.  We grab for ourselves.  We work to be secure in this world.  We form political and social alliances to make a place for ourselves.  We grab, when God asks us to receive; to be completely trusting. 

Humility can be faked, and those who do so are not living in God’s reign.  Humility as a strategy can be employed by anyone.  It’s the idea that if I humble myself, I am sure to be exalted.  Humility as strategy is manipulation.  Do you know of someone who will put themselves down so you will reassure them they are not that bad?  What happens if you don’t reassure them?  Are they lost?  Genuine humility is living in the reign of God.  The truly humble person is fine sitting anywhere.  The genuinely humble person is confident enough to be ok with not being noticed.

If I invite you so you will invite me, where’s the generosity in that?  It’s called reciprocity, not generocity!  Jesus’ suggestion to his host that the next time he throws a banquet  he should invite the poor, the lame, and the blind is outlandish.  Jesus’ host no doubt wondered what benefit would be gained.  To invite those who cannot repay is to eliminate the possibility of reciprocity, and opens the door to real generosity.  Generosity reflects God’s character, and gives evidence of living in God’s reign.

All this is not about where we are sitting only.  It is also about where we want to be sitting.  In this the desires of our hearts may reveal more than our actions.  So what Jesus is saying comes down to a few things: 

Can we give up the urge to be more important than others?  Can we give up the need to be recognized in a way that puffs us up? 

If we can be content in the knowledge of God’s love for us, if we don’t care where we sit at the table, as long as it is the Lord’s table, we are living in the reign of God, which Jesus proclaims in his words, his actions, and with his very life. 

Amen.

There is something about water that is good for the soul, and the body too.   Water can have a calming effect.  Aquariums are said to lower blood pressure.  Water features not only make a garden lovelier, they also add calm. 

The image of water in the Bible is a bit more complete.  Though I would prefer to focus on the life-giving properties of water, it has its destructive side, too.  Water is chaotic, and the image of Genesis 1 is that before God began creating, everything was a cosmic soup.  Water will go wherever it can, even uphill if it has something to move along on.  Water is uncontrollable.  The wind and the waves will do their thing.  Water is powerful, as anyone who has been caught in a strong current can tell you.  Sometimes there can be too much water, as history and recent events will testify. 

So, given some of its downsides, what is it about water?  Is it that until we are born, we are jostled around in it?  Is it that we are mostly water?  Is there some primorial connection between water and well-being?  Though not a fisherman, Jesus spent a lot of time around water, teaching by it, calming it and walking on it.  His disciples, several of whom had made their living on the sea, were tossed about and frightened by the wind and waves, perhaps keenly aware of what wind and waves could do.   Given all this, we are formally brought into the Christian family with the sign of water.  Water makes living possible and unpredictable, perhaps this is why water is a part of our life of faith.

It is no surprise that images about water abound.  We are carried from the primordial soup and the Great Deluge, to the life-giving stream.  We are brought to the waters of baptism, and to the river of life that runs through the new Jerusalem.  Water, it turns out, is our beginning, our middle,  and our end.  And in the mean time, the middle time, it’s time by, in, and on Little Bear Lake, a place for which I am very grateful, and rarely ready to leave.

Based on Luke 12:49-56

Lions and tigers and bears, Oh, my!

Decisions and Commitments and Conflicts, Oh, my!

Lions and tigers and bears, Oh, my!

Decisions and Commitments and Conflicts, Oh, my!

Lions and tigers and bears, Oh, my

Decisions and Commitments and Conflicts, Oh, my!

I guess it would take someone who grew up in Kansas to remember a line from the Wizard of Oz and use it for an example in a sermon in Michigan. You remember the story where Dorothy, Scarecrow, Lion and Tin Man were gathered for their journey down the yellow brick road. As they entered the dark forest they became fearful and chanted the ominous words “Lions and tigers and bears, Oh, my!” over and over again. The group of travelers became more and more frightened as they recited the chant.

Our lesson from Luke can bring similar fears upon us. However, as frightened as Dorothy and her companions were, they did continue the journey down the yellow brick road and we should continue together, too, I think.

It is tempting to domesticate the harsh words that Jesus presents to us, or pass over them for a more comfortable part of the gospel. It would be easier, for example, to focus on the reading from Hebrews. We could approach the reading of the Hebrews letter from a historical perspective and celebrate all those faithful saints throughout our history. We could talk about how brave they were in times of oppression or punishment, and how faithful they were to follow God because they heard from or spoke with God directly. We could talk about running the race and looking forward to the finish line where we join that wonderful cloud of witnesses who went before us. We could read the Hebrews letter this way and never feel compelled to change or do anything other than feel good about having all those saints around us. This historical reading would allow us to distance ourselves from having to consider the health of our own souls. But, let’s avoid this temptation to soften the gospel message this morning and embark on a journey to see where this passage might lead us.

Today’s lesson is part of the larger section in the gospel that documents the events leading up to Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. The section begins back in chapter 9; verse 51 where Luke tells us that “When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”

Jesus ‘set his face to go to Jerusalem’ knowing it was his journey to the cross. He stepped forward on an unwavering path that he knew would lead to his death. Jesus offered words of assurance and comfort for his followers as well as urgent words of commitment and conflict as he journeyed toward the cross. You can imagine that he was quite impatient at times when he realized his closest followers were not taking his teachings to heart. He knew he was about out of time and must have been frustrated when people did not listen or understand. A few weeks ago we were hearing the prayer Jesus taught his disciples. Last week brought us the story Jesus told about how the ravens and lilies are cared for by God and we have no need to worry. As Hebrews assures us, our journeys look toward Jesus who was the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. So, with Jesus setting himself on the road to the cross and ourselves, in our faith journeys, looking toward Jesus who cleared the way for us, we can begin to consider the today’s gospel lesson.

Jesus said he was bringing fire to the earth, that he was stressed over his baptism and that he would bring conflict to the point of divided families. He also scolded us for the fact that we can read signs of the weather but we can’t seem to figure out what he is teaching us.

Before you leave here ready to burn up a forest or pick a fight with your kids, let’s think through what else might be going on here. Starting fires and picking fights is not what Jesus is asking us to do, OK?

Fire can be a scary thing. I really don’t want my house to burn down. I feel compassion when I hear of forests burning in the UP or out in California. Fire is hot, all consuming, and dangerous at times, yet it is also useful. Fire provides warmth and clears a path for new growth. We travelled to Wyoming several years ago and visited the Yellowstone National Park. They showed us where forest fires had cleared undergrowth and old trees. The park rangers were monitoring new forest growth and commented how readily the forest replenishes itself. The new growth that comes behind a fire is vibrant and healthy. The prairies where I grew up have a similar regeneration process where prairie fires clear out weeds and dead grass to make way for new, healthy grass. So, consider the fire Jesus speaks of as a cleansing fire. Compare the fire Jesus brings with the rush of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost when the apostles spoke in the languages of everyone present and all understood what they spoke. The fire Jesus is trying to kindle in us is the fire that clears evil, prejudice and fear from our hearts to make room for the new growth of him in us. It is a cleansing fire that makes more room for him in the center of our hearts.

The stress Jesus felt over his baptism, his journey to the cross, is similarly awesome to us. We are to take up our cross and follow him, knowing there will be conflict along the way. Later we will talk about how taking up that cross might be worth the trouble for the prize we are to gain.

And what’s going on with this family conflict thing? Fathers and sons are battling each other, mothers and daughters are fighting, and in-laws can’t seem to get along. Consider that a mature family in Jesus time probably consisted of at least 5 persons. This multi-generational family unit might consist of a father and mother, a son and daughter, and the son’s wife. So the conflicts that can occur are between father and son, mother and daughter, and mother-in-law with daughter-in-law or in combination.

Peggy and I heard a great story of family conflict when we attended church, recently, with our son and daughter in-law in Texas. The guest speaker that day was Afshin Ziafat. Afshin is a U.S. citizen with Iranian descent. His mother and father came to Houston before he was born. When he was 2 they went back to Iran until the Shah was deposed and the Ayotallah Komeini came to power. Afshin was 6 when his family fled Iran and returned to the U.S. Afshin’s father is a doctor in the Houston area and a leading member of the Muslim community. Afshin was raised in this Muslim family but found Jesus, was saved and baptized, and subsequently disowned by his father. Afshin told a wonderful story about taking English lessons as a 6 year old. His English teacher gave him a new testament at the end of his lessons. She told him that he might not understand it then but that he would someday. When Afshin was 12, a Christian boy on their basketball team befriended him and asked him why he didn’t believe in Jesus. As the two boys talked about their respective faiths, Afshin began reading the Bible his English teacher had given him. Afshin realized that he could continue with his attempt to climb the 5 pillars of the Muslim faith without ever having any assurance of salvation whatsoever, but that the gift of God’s grace is free and that salvation is, indeed, assured to all who believe. He studied the Bible in secret, became baptized in secret and started attending youth ministry sessions at his friends church, all behind his Dad’s back. He finally decided to tell his Dad and was immediately disowned by his father. Afshin’s story continues and there is some reconciliation that is starting to occur between him and his father. In the mean time, Afshin’s ministry has grown; he tells his story all over the country and is now training Iranian ministers to prepare them for carrying Christ to Muslims in Iran. Many of us will never experience the kind of conflict associated with total separation from our families. Some have faced it and continue to deal with that separation over a long period of time.

Conflict can and will occur in families when faith journeys take separate paths. I remember around 50 years ago my grandma being shocked whenever people married across protestant and catholic faith lines. A child may be called to mission service in a foreign country and have conflict with their family over making the trip. There are families where the parents faithfully attend and give to a church and their children, who were raised in those same churches, have wandered off to look for something else, or nothing. I know of a church deacon whose daughter explores eastern mysticism. The stories go on and on. Jesus knew his ministry would cause conflict among families and even his own family was conflicted. Recall the word of Simeon the prophet when Joseph and Mary presented Jesus at the temple. It’s in chapter 2 of Luke. Simeon warned Mary that a sword would pierce her own soul, too. Mary dealt with having to go back to Jerusalem and find her son in the temple, his questions about who is my mother and my brother when summoned by them while he was preaching in a synagogue, and finally the scene where Mary had to sit by and watch her son die on the cross. Pierced souls, indeed!

Let’s talk about the weather. What are some of the signs that you know? What is the folklore you know about weather? My grandpa’s bunion got sore when the barometer dropped. My grandmother told me that it will not rain if there is enough blue in the sky to sew a pair of jeans. An aunt told me the number of stars you see in the rings around the moon is how many days it will be until it rains. Ahh, but that was the old days. Now we just call up the weather on our smart phones and trust the forecasts handed out by the National Weather Service. We trust the weather forecasts and make plans around them! But, Jesus is saying, “Wait a minute! You trust the weather man but you can’t trust me?” He said, “You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” Jesus reminded the disciples, and us, that he is standing right in front of us and we are looking the other way!

Lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my!

Decisions, commitments, and conflicts, oh my!

Where is the hope in all this fire and baptism and family conflict and weather forecasting? What is going on here and what are we to do about it?

When we make the decision to follow Jesus, our commitment brings about both positive and negative consequences. Jesus was very clear with us on this. He told us there would be consequences and conflict. So, where’s the hope? I Peter 1:13 teaches us to set all our hope on the grace that Jesus will bring us when he is revealed. Hebrews tells us to run the race, look toward Jesus at the finish line, who is the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. He is there waiting and urging us forward, and the cloud of witnesses is our cheering section.

Think about your decision to follow Christ. Many of you have already made that decision. Some of you might still be considering how to get started. All of us are in different places on our journey. Yet, whenever we stop to think about it, all of us realize we are changing. Our gospel lesson reminds us quite well of the negative consequences with family conflict and confused priorities about paying more attention to earthly weather things than the heavenly things Christ offers. But let’s remind ourselves of the positive changes as well.

Our commitment to Jesus causes us to rethink our priorities about our families, our spending, who we spend our time with, and what we say to others. As we change, others around us change. We find ourselves becoming more patient, loving, generous, humble and caring. We become servants instead of warriors. We trust even though we are occasionally betrayed by family members or friends. We become love with broken hearts.

We begin to spend time in Bible study and prayer, at the expense of other things we could have spent time at. We begin to pay as much attention to the maintenance of our spiritual disciplines as we do to the maintenance of our cars. Our concern for the health of our church begins to surpass our concern for whether we have a low handicap on the golf course. We choose to attend worship on Sunday mornings instead of sleeping in or doing yard work. The more we learn and grow, the more tension we might have within ourselves about our selected vocation or the hobbies we pursue.

We find our goals changing. We pursue ways to give from the wealth we have been given, rather than being consumed by trying to gather more. We pay less attention to the stock market, national news, or the reality shows on TV and more attention to the pain and poverty around us. Our pocketbooks begin to follow our hearts in the way we give and use our money.

We mature in our stewardship of the earth’s resources and realize that we have to minimize our carbon footprint. We recycle more and fertilize less. We use less gasoline and more calories to get where we are going. We plant gardens or shop at the farmer’s markets to buy local produce rather than that which has been transported several thousand miles.

We find ourselves in places like the Open Door, the Food Pantry, down at the elementary school filling backpacks with food, out in the community garden, visiting shut-ins and nursing homes, or at someone’s home building a wheel chair ramp.

The people we spend time with change. We drift away from some people because our lifestyles are different, less worldly. We lose some friends, we argue with members of our family about how they should behave or how we behave. We find ourselves in new relationships that are deeper, more prayerful, and more meaningful. I have a lot of casual friends from where I have lived before, with whom I worked or met during secular activities. But the friends I depend on for help, strength, wisdom, understanding and love are all right here most Sunday mornings! Many of you have stated the same sentiment during our time of prayer in worship.

Our prayers change. We find ourselves praying for others, for their healing, for their relationships, for them to find Jesus like we did. We pray less for us and more for those others who need our prayers. We pray with new confidence for others because we begin to realize that others are praying for us.

Suddenly, Dorothy, we realize that we are not in Kansas any more! (Did you really think I was going to leave you with only the lions, tigers and bears thing?) We have moved to a new place in our lives that is at times frightening, occasionally painful, always an adventure, and amazingly joyful because that is how the Holy Spirit works in us. We are on a path that Jesus has blazed for us and it is hard, and we get tired, and we look back and say, “Wow, this has been a great ride!” Amen.

Many of us are familiar with these well-loved stories Jesus told. There’s the parable of the Good Samaritan, the Lost Coin, and the Mustard Seed. In just a few words, easily understood, Jesus proclaims an incredible truth about what it means to be God’s person in the world, God, and the reign of God. Most of the time the parables are reassuring to us. We are precious in God’s sight, and there is great rejoicing in heaven when the lost are found. “Neighbor” is defined by one person willing to help another. The reign of God is life-affirming and calls us to a way of living that puts God first.

We lose track of how offensive the parables can be. Though we learned the parable of the Good Samaritan early on in life, we later come to know that the Samaritan should not have been the “hero” in the story. He was one of the most hated and despised people on earth as far as Jesus’ own people were concerned. A woman searching for anything, let alone what was probably a Roman coin, was not to be compared to God.

And then there is the mustard seed. A weed; a plant which, if given half a chance, will take over a garden or field. What does it mean that Jesus compares the reign of God to this? The reign of God is like a wild plant. Once started, it is difficult to control. In a moment, this parable, which used to reassure me that the reign of God will grow, takes on a whole new meaning! In theory I know that God cannot be domesticated, but this? I find it just a bit overwhelming to consider what the reign of God as mustard seed might do in my life, let alone in the world.

The parable of the woman who puts leaven into the dough is the same idea. Once the leaven is in there, it is in there. There’s no taking it out. Yeast is a living organism, and it will do its thing with the dough. What we need to remind ourselves of here is that leaven was not held in high regard in Jesus’ day. Leaven is what you got rid of during the holy time of Passover. Leaven was for ordinary, common days, so leaven and holiness did not necessarily go hand in hand. What does that say about the reign of God?

Though on a good day I can admit that I can’t control God, there’s still something in me that wants to keep the mustard seed in check. I don’t like weeds in my garden! So the question becomes quite evident: in what ways am I “weeding” God out of my life? How am I hoping to “manage” the reign of God? If Jesus’ words have any truth to them, my efforts will be futile, thank God!  Yet, how often will we try to keep God in check?  How many ways can we find to limit the full effect of God’s reign?  I find it interesting that what can be reassuring, that God’s reign is alive in the world today. can also be a bit disturbing.  As it turns out, the reign of God is not mine to control.  Shocker!  It is a God-driven reality, a reality to which we are called and in which we are invited to live.

TEXT L8R

Billboards all across the state of Michigan now broadcast this message. It’s a reminder that texting while driving is now a fineable offence in the state. Legislators in Michigan, as elsewhere, have come to realize that texting while driving is dangerous, and can be deadly. Texting, so it is now apparent, is too distracting. Typing a message takes too much attention away from what the driver needs to be giving their attention to.

There have been times in my life when I didn’t need to be texting, but my mind was somewhere else while I was driving. “Was that a green light?” I’ve asked myself. “Did I ignore a stop sign?” I’ve wondered. I say all this knowing that I’m not alone. We are all prone to distractions, and sometimes those distractions can do great harm.

The prophet Amos encounters a people, a nation that is distracted. So caught up are the people of the northern kingdom that what was once the distraction has now become par for the course. There was a time when the presence of foreign gods seemed strange. By the Amos begins to preach, this presence is considered normal. There was a time when lying, cheating, and stealing were frowned upon. By the time Amos arrives, it is accepted conduct. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer, false weights and measures are used in commerce, and the poor are sold for a pair of sandals. It’s all routine.

How do you get the attention of folk when the way things are is no big deal? How do you point out disobedience when disobedience is so rampant? This is the challenge Amos faces. One way Amos tries to get everyone’s attention is by telling them about his visions. One we talked about last week, the plumb line. How far out of whack are we? Look at the plumb line! This week’s vision is a basket of summer fruit. Usually a sign of blessing and provision, this basket of summer fruit has gone rotten. It’s overly ripe, and no longer fit for eating. Fruit, once it’s rotten, can’t be eaten, and there’s no making it edible either. You can’t make one thing out of another, as it were.

It’s a message Amos and very few other prophets are sent to proclaim: it’s too late. Things in the northern kingdom are too far gone, like rotten fruit. There’s no going back, making things better. There’s no amount of repentance that will allow for another future. In all of this, it is Amos who is regarded as the distraction! He’s the one interfering with where people want their hearts and minds to be. Amos and his message are the unwelcome intrusion into the way things are.

Jesus visits a village, and Martha invites him into her home. As host, she begins to make all the necessary preparations. We can imagine her out in the kitchen getting a meal ready. She’s busy going about her work, until, at some point, she realizes she is out there alone. Jesus entered her home and she headed to the kitchen. Her sister Mary sat at Jesus’ feet.

I don’t know about you, but working in the kitchen alone is one thing. Working in the kitchen alone while others don’t care that I’m in there by myself is another! So we should not be surprised that, while she is tending to her preparations, that Martha’s irritation at the situation builds, to the point that she goes out and poses a serious question to her guest. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me.” Lord, do you not care? Martha asks this question safe

in the assumption that Jesus does care. How amazed she must be when Jesus basically says to her, “No, I don’t care!” Hardly the words Martha was expecting to hear. Instead of gaining Jesus’ support for her dilemma, she is told that her dilemma is of her own making! “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted about many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

What a rude awakening! Jesus doesn’t care! At least not in the way Martha was hoping he would. What Jesus does care about is that she is distracted. She is worried about many things. Her mind and heart are not where they need to be. Mary is where she needs to be, and Martha needs to get there too.

Distractions can be dangerous and deadly. They can pull us away from the one thing that truly needs our attention. What pulls your heart and mind away from God? What else tugs at you when God wants your attention? What one thing is calling for your full attention? Perhaps that one thing is a word from the Lord as we merrily go our way, distancing ourselves from God. Perhaps that one thing is to sit at Jesus’ feet and enjoy being in his presence.

In a recent Newsweek, Ezra Klein’s article“How Much Does a Gallon of Gas Cost?” (June 21, 2010 issue).  points out something that has been on my mind for years; that is the true cost verses the price we pay.  According to the article, economists call this “externality”, a cost “. . . that is not paid by the people using the good that creates the cost.” 

For instance, during the health care debate, much discussion was given to how much this will cost.  Very few voices were asking what true cost is accrued when more and more members of society are without health insurance.  Though “clean coal” is promoted, perhaps the mine accident earlier this year is a helpful reminder that coal comes with a cost, clean or not.  And though BP has set aside millions of dollars, the true cost of our attachment to fossil fuels goes far beyond any dollar amount.  We’ve gotten away with not counting the cost for years.  And it’s catching up to us.  Polluted air, increased incidents of asthma, a changing climate, polar bears drowning for lack of ice, and habitat degridation are just some of the externals that are catching up to us.    

Jesus warns us to not begin an enterprise before counting the cost.  The verses surrounding the one given above make it fairly clear.  Before you begin building a tower, count the cost.  Before you go to war, do the math.  Before you become one of my followers, be clear about what it will cost. 

Jesus uses what seem to be very harsh words.  “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”  (Verse 25)  Ultimate loyalty is what Jesus is calling us to, and all other loyalties come in last.  Accepting Jesus means rejecting all other claims to our devotion.

 In part we can explain this away because in the ancient world there were no second-place winners.  Either something is first, or it is last; no in between.  Either something or someone is loved, or it is hated.  Our view of the world, in which we can have several things to which we are devoted, does not work in Jesus’ understanding of things.  He invites us to a costly decision.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer is well-known for his concerns about cheap grace.  To paraphrase him, grace may be free, but it is not cheap.  The freely given love of God calls us to newness: new priorities, new community, and new ways of living, to name only a few.  If we choose to respond to the grace of God, it will cost us something. 

There’s the flip-side question, too.  What’s the cost of not changing?  More pollution?  More oil-soaked brown pelicans?  What’s the cost of not accepting Jesus’ invitation to be a disciple?  What blessings do we miss if we keep going our merry way?  I don’t know about you, but I don’t like it when Jesus’ words sound demanding!  I want faith to be comfortable and comforting.  I want to follow Jesus up to the point where he starts asking me to give what I want to keep.  I want to be able to determine what I will “pay” to be a disciple.  Actual cost begins to sound like too much. 

As much as you and I may struggle with this issue of true cost, I am equally convinced that true discipleship is worth it.  If being a disciple is costly, knowing the freely given love of God is of greater value.  Being forgiven is priceless.  Being a part of Christ’s work in the world is a value that cannot be measured.  What comes to us as a result of our choosing to follow Jesus makes the choice worth whatever it costs.  Though Jesus suggests we count the cost, he also invites us to a life in him that is abundant, filled to overflowing with goodness.

Peace for the Journey!