Sunday, December 14, 2008

“The Advent of Freedom” – Isaiah 61:1-11

The time has come. The day of salvation is here. The time spoken of so long ago by the prophet Isaiah. You stand, today, in a privileged position in world history—God’s servant, as spoken of in Isaiah, has come!

Has this fully set in with you? Do you realize all that this means? We don’t sit here today in church because we are just going through the motions of life. We don’t sit here because it is a good investment for raising healthy families. We don’t sit here because this is what we have always done. We are here because something has happened—something big—something huge—something that turns life upon its head!

Your ancestors were slaves. They were oppressed. They were held captive by many different masters. They lived under burdens too great to bear. They crawled through life hoping and praying for something better, hoping that they might see a day of change, a day of freedom.

That day is here—right now! Do not miss it! Do not sit there daydreaming, asleep, or uninterested! This word is for you. Listen to it, absorb it, let it transform you: You…are…free! Regardless of how you may feel, regardless of what you see—you…are…free!

God’s servant, Jesus of Nazareth, has come “to bind up the brokenhearted.” You are free from the brokenhearted-ness of your past. You are free from your poor decisions. You are free from your sins and mistakes. You are free from divorce and broken relationships. You are free from the pain that others have caused you. You are free from every injustice done to you. Your past can no longer haunt you—it is transformed—you now know the end of the story and your past is now free to be an important part of that story.

God’s servant, Jesus of Nazareth, has come “to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners.” You are free in your present situation, despite what you may see. Free from the rulers, powers, and authorities, which place themselves in the place of God and try to dominate your life. You are free from the world’s politics. You are free from your government. You are free from your boss. You are free from your money. You are free from your possessions. You are free from the capitalistic rat race. You are free from all oppression and inequality. You are free from racism. You are free from violence and abuse. You are free from retaliation and revenge. You are free from self-defense. You are free from all forms of hate. You are free from loneliness and depression. You are free from all disease, illness, and chronic pain. You are free from the desires and cravings of your flesh. You are free from your pride and ego. Jesus has come and bestowed on you a “crown of beauty” and anointed you with the “oil of gladness.” You “will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.” You stand out as a beacon of hope and freedom in this world of slavery and brokenness. As men gather around false ideologies of freedom, which are only disguised forms of slavery—you bear witness to true freedom.

God’s servant, Jesus of Nazareth, has come so that you can “rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated.” You are free from the unknowns of the future. You are free from all worry and anxiety. You are free for the future. You are free to work towards and build a future in accord with God’s will. You are free to be a new creation in the midst of an old creation that is dying away. With Isaiah you have been clothed in the new creation: “He has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.” In Jesus Christ you are free to be a signpost of God’s new creation.

God will indeed create new life in the midst of the old. “For as the soil makes the sprout come up and a garden causes seeds to grow, so the Sovereign Lord will make righteousness and praise spring up before all nations.” From the soil of this world of suffering, pain, and injustice, God will cause new life of justice to spring forth. In walking in the freedom of Jesus Christ, you are that new life—regardless of what you may feel and see, I say it again—you are that new life, you are a new creation in Jesus Christ. God has defeated death. The tomb is empty. Jesus of Nazareth rose from the dead. Death no longer holds you. Death can no longer be used to manipulate you. Death has been defeated. You will rise from death on the last day. God is your future and he has a new and wonderful thing in store for you and all creation. You are free to live boldly now, pushing toward that future. You are the “light of the world.”  You are the “city on a hill.”

Therefore, you are free to be the new creation that God has made you in Jesus Christ. You are free to love—and when you love you are free. You are free to bind yourself in service to all mankind. As Paul said, “Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone” (1 Corinthians 9:19). Therefore, love boldly. Do the extraordinary. Don’t be like the dying world that only loves those who love them—follow in the footsteps of Jesus, love like he did—love your enemies. Love those who love no one and whom no one loves. Love those who do not forgive in return, who hate you when you love them, who insult you when you bless them. Love your religious, political, and personal enemies. Love those who are putting you to death. Live in the love of Jesus Christ himself—live the way of the cross. You are free to step beyond the world’s ways and to receive victory over the world through the way of the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Go forth and love! You are free! Amen.

“You Ungrateful Wretch” – Luke 17:11-19

“You ungrateful wretch.” These words haunted my father when he was a child. When his actions and attitude left his mother frustrated and without recourse, she would call it as it was—she would point out that he was an “ungrateful wretch.” My father now recalls how much he resented those words as a child—that they stung deep down. And who among us can argue with him on that? These words seem outright atrocious to us. In this world of niceties and tolerance the very idea of saying something like this to someone, especially our own child, and meaning it, absolutely blows our mind. It simply looks like verbal abuse on the surface, but the more I think about it, the more I am not sure. I am reminded of Jesus’ own harsh words. Jesus’ words about Herod, “Go tell that fox” (Luke 13:32), or Jesus’ words to the Pharisees and religious leaders when he calls them “fools,” “snakes,” “unmarked graves,” “hypocrites,” “blind guides,” or “brood of vipers.” Sometimes we need harsh words like these to teach us a hard truth about the world or about ourselves. Self-awareness does not come easy and what we discover is very often unpleasant and difficult to swallow.

Our text for today, if we look closely, is a text that does such a thing. This story from Jesus’ life I have heard every Thanksgiving, and, for me at least, it has often left me wanting more. I have always felt that the explanations given were too clean and too easy when in fact the text should hit us right between the eyes like the words “you ungrateful wretch.” Let me set the scene…

Jesus’ mind was made up. His destination was clear. He was between Samaria and Galilee and he was headed directly to Jerusalem—the city of his forefathers, the seat of the Temple of God. This is where his message needed to be proclaimed, where his message needed to be lived out. Confrontation with the religious authorities was inevitable. They had been skeptical of him before, and now they were beginning to show signs of violence towards him.  But he had a job to do—he was on a mission. He was here to show them that God’s rule had arrived—that the time of man’s rule was up; they would need to relinquish their crowns, they would need to lay down their swords.

Just as Jesus was about to enter the next village, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by spine-tingling cries: “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!” He looked around. His gaze focused in on the group of men—ten in all. There they stood at a distance. The Jewish designation for these men was not just a name, there was no misnomer here—these men were clearly unclean. The clothes that clung to their withered forms were nothing but rags. Their limbs were gnarled and raw. Open wounds bled freely in some places, in others the scarring took on twisted shapes all its own. The sight was heart wrenching, but the grossness threatened to shove aside any compassion—this was not the way humanity was supposed to live—if this even was humanity. Jesus knew this was not right. This was broken, this was out of order, all was not right with the world—that was crystal clear. Jesus’ heart went out to them. “Go, show yourselves to the priests”—were his only words.

Confused and unsure what this meant, the men decided they had nothing better to do—so they headed out. Along the way there, the ones in the back began to notice something strange. The skin of the men in front of them was starting to clear up, the wounds were beginning to heal. They quickly looked down at their own hands and feet. They couldn’t believe their eyes—they were healing! This realization spread through them like wildfire. At once, the pace of the group quickened—they couldn’t get to the priests quick enough—salvation was at hand, this life as exiles and outcasts was almost over! Suddenly, however, one stopped dead in his tracks. He called out to the rest: “Wait! We need to go back. Jesus deserves our thanks.” The others replied: “Nonsense! We are finally as we should be, God has finally reversed this injustice. Jesus told us to go see the priests and that’s what we are doing.” Alone he stood. His companions were fading into the distance. He knew what he needed to do. He turned back. And he started to run.

The memory of his companions soon faded and the joy of his situation soon overtook him. Old songs and chants soon came to the surface—he shouted and cried aloud to God, praising him for the undeserved mercy he had just received. He had been as good as dead, left alone without the help and support of the community, and now he was whole—he was back in the community! As he approached Jesus, he threw himself at Jesus’ feet, thanking him over and over. The words he stammered seemed impotent and inadequate but he couldn’t help himself. This gift was too much. Who was he to deserve such mercy?

Jesus was startled by the scene. Here this man he had just healed thanked him, groveling at his feet seemingly without dignity, honor, or self-respect. And then things became even more baffling. Through the jumbled thanks Jesus heard an accent—this man was no Galilean, this man was a Samaritan! Stunned, Jesus asked the man and his disciples: “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” The disciples were bewildered and speechless. They looked around aimlessly at the surreal situation. The man who had been cleansed didn’t even register the question—he was too consumed with his praise for God. Jesus then grabbed the cleansed man’s attention and said to him: “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”

This story is quite remarkable. Ten healed lepers—one thankful—and that one a foreigner, an outsider. The nine others, who were most likely Jewish, were nowhere to be found. They had no need to give thanks to Jesus—sure, they were happy and elated to be healed, but they were God’s chosen people, Jesus is what they had deserved all along and had now finally received.

Therefore, the message for us today is this: Be careful of being an “insider,” of being in a position of privilege, of being a “good Christian,” because you will very likely fall into the trap of the nine lepers, the trap of being an “ungrateful wretch.” If we are honest with ourselves that is exactly what the nine lepers were in the story—ungrateful wretches. They are often praised for obeying Jesus’ command to go see the priests but in reality that says little about them. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And they were desperate since they had been thrown out and ostracized from the community. But once they were healed—once the desperation was over—once they suddenly had prosperity—the true character of their hearts was immediately revealed. Fred Danker analyzed it well: “The other nine also had faith that Jesus could heal them but they exploited Jesus for the gift; they were not in the market for inward change.” In other words—even the demons know that Jesus is powerful and can heal, but that is not what true faith is about. True faith goes much deeper than this. True faith is intertwined with gratitude.

In her book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle Barbara Kingsolver describes her family’s yearlong pledge to eat only locally-produced foods. Speaking of the incident Barbara talks about their discovery of gratitude:

“For me, the biggest miracle is the fact that this project, which may have seemed to us in the beginning to be an exercise in deprivation, very quickly guided us through a paradigm shift. Very quickly, we came to see this way of living with a sense of gratitude. We moved from beginning each meal by asking. ‘What do I feel like?’ to asking, ‘What do we have?’ We would look at what’s coming in — what’s wonderful and abundant right now — and work from there.”

The shift she speaks of is simple: it’s no longer about “what I want” or “what I deserve”, it’s now about “what have we been given?” For some strange reason human beings have the awful tendency to turn bounty, goodness, and prosperity into “not enough.” We have mastered the art of being ungrateful wretches.  Mark Twain said it beautifully: “If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man.”

Mankind cannot seem to handle prosperity—we strike out to bite the hand that feeds us. You have probably seen it all over the place—in your own life, in your children, in a homeless person, in your coworkers—the tendency to take a gift and then bad mouth it behind the scenes, because it wasn’t the right thing, or good enough, or enough at all. We may be thankful for the big things we receive in life, but are we thankful for the small, insignificant things? Dietrich Bonhoeffer said it clearly: “We pray for the big things and forget to give thanks for the small gifts we receive daily. How can God entrust great things to those who will not gratefully receive the little things from God’s hand?” If we fall into complaining about what we “don’t have” or how what we have isn’t “good enough” or how God hasn’t answered our prayers to our liking, then we have lost sight of God.

So how can we overcome our tendency to be ungrateful wretches? And more deeply and honestly, how can we learn to be thankful in a world full of brokenness, suffering, and pain? Ellen Vaughn recognized this hard reality of life in her book Radical Gratitude, saying: “We cannot look at the child who has been raped and offer the theological maxim that God will draw something good from out of this. We cannot think of the children consumed by the fires of Auschwitz and Hiroshima and manufacture some easy gratitude. Gratitude does not take away the horrors of violence.” Gratitude cannot and must not overlook the tragedy of this life, though Vaughn continues: “Death makes it clear that each day of life is an opulent gift.”

We see this opulent gift of life most poignantly in Jesus Christ. He embodied gratefulness in his life—his life that was riddled with pain, suffering, and brokenness. In the face of a world that was spinning out of control around him, Jesus remained focused on all the gifts and blessings that his Father showered upon him. He remained obedient to the Father amidst a world that was rejecting him and putting him to death. It is here in Jesus that God’s love, bounty, and mercy are most clearly displayed. In Jesus gratitude knew no bounds. In Jesus gratitude was able to embrace even pain and suffering—not making light of this pain and suffering, but moving through the pain and suffering to God’s grace on the other side. We do not thank God for the suffering and tragedy in this life—we instead thank God in the midst of the suffering and tragedy of this life. Through gratitude even the darkest corners of this life are penetrated by God’s love. To be truly thankful means to say “yes” to all that God gives and takes away—to cry out with Job: “The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised” (Job 1:21). Gratitude embraces all aspects of our lives—even the darkness of our pasts—because gratitude knows the future. Through gratitude the brokenness of our pasts can become fruitful for the present and guide us into the future life God has in store for us after the resurrection of our bodies.

And so to be certain, gratitude does not rest complacent in the present, but pushes forward to God’s future. In Jesus we see that gratitude leads to generosity. Gratitude is not stagnant—it is active. Gratitude is not the nine lepers continuing on without returning to Jesus—gratitude is the one leper returning to actively praise God. Therefore, gratitude is not contentedly sitting at your thanksgiving table thanking God for what you have, while there are those around you whose table is empty. To thank God for what you have while doing nothing to help those who are without is hypocrisy. In Jesus we see that true gratitude passes on the love of God that we have experienced to others. Gratitude bears fruit by generously giving to others so that they too may praise God.

So, “you ungrateful wretch.” My dad now looks back on these words with a sort of fondness. Through the wisdom of a life of experience he now sees how right his mother was—and that she has taught him a valuable lesson that has remained with him when so much else has faded away. The poignant words, “you ungrateful wretch,” are a consistent reminder of our tendency to take advantage of the many gifts we have been given—to feel a sense of entitlement. But we do not despair in the face of this, for God came to us through Jesus when we were ungrateful wretches, and now you and I have been given new life and it is our turn to go forth giving thanks and praise to God by filling the tables of those who have none. Therefore, this Thanksgiving we not only say thanks to God, we live out our thanks to God by passing on the many blessings we have received. Thanks be to God! Amen.

“Let Go of Money” – Matthew 6:19-24

“The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10). This familiar phrase stands out in our text for today. So often I have heard it quoted “money is the root of all kinds of evil” with many people quickly jumping in to stress that it is the “love of money that is the root of all kinds of evil.” Why is that? Is it out of a faithful desire to quote the Scriptures properly? Is it out of some sort of defense of the truth? Or is it actually out of an attempt to justify money on some level? I think a lot of times it is the latter—I think we too quickly jump to the defense of money because on some level we want to justify our ways and handling of money.

Yes, money can definitely be a neutral thing—used for both good and evil. But the issue goes much deeper than this. The question is: How much of a temptress is money to you? How enticing is its allure? Money in isolation may very well be a neutral thing—but once you mix money and people, is it still neutral? I say, definitely not.

Money is charming. It tempts even the humblest with its promises of power, pleasure, and security. So many have vowed to use money for good and have eventually succumbed to the same temptations as all who have gone before them. Money has a power over humanity unlike anything else.  And we see this in the corruption it has brought to even those who are church leaders.

And what does it mean to “love money” anyway? How subtle can this love be? The Apostle Paul in our text gives us the answer: “People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap” (1 Timothy 6:9). The love of money is as simple and subtle as any desire to get rich, to accumulate earthly wealth of any kind. If that desire is already at work in us—through the desire for a bigger house, a nicer car, more gadgets, nicer clothes, an easy retirement—then we have already fallen into the trap that money has set for us. We can see this desire in every corner of our society and how it has ensnared our entire culture. We see this fact everywhere: from game shows like “Who wants to be a Millionaire?” and “Deal or No Deal” to the fact that “about one-half of American adults spend $45 billion annually on some 35,000 lottery games” to the overwhelming statistic that about 20%—20%!—of all American spending is on gambling. To top it all off we are confronted with the hard reality that our entire capitalistic economy is based on the pursuit and desire for wealth.

Stanley Hauerwas, a professor at Duke, has some hard words for us:

“Christians, particularly in capitalist social orders, are told that it is not wealth or power that is the problem but rather we must be good stewards of our wealth and power. However, Jesus is very clear. Wealth is a problem. That capitalism is an economic system justified by the production of wealth is therefore not necessarily good news for Christians.”

Jesus’ own words back up Hauerwas’ bold claims: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Matthew 19:24). Jesus also spoke in one parable about how “the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth” (Matthew 13:22) choke his word and message. Money is a temptation that brings even the strongest to their knees.  It seductively calls out to us to gather more of it because of all the things we can do with it once we have it. Money entices us to gather more and more so that we will have the power to fulfill our desires and dreams—so that we will be secure. This leads us to accumulate wealth which Jesus plainly tells us is a trap that chokes our relationship with God. And yet money’s greatest power is that it does all this while convincing us we are somehow exempt from its appeal and we are the special ones who can handle wealth without being polluted by it.

Jesus’ clear words, however, tell us otherwise: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” The fact that we store up earthly treasures and wealth is the evidence that our hearts are set upon earthly things. Storing up earthly treasures isn’t something that is done accidently—it is intentional—people do not accidently accumulate wealth, they do it purposely. Even though the intention and motive may be for so-called philanthropic and generous reasons the point remains: accumulating wealth, whether for “good” or “evil” shows that we have our faith in the power of money. Earthly treasures are not meant to be stored away and hoarded for the future—they are meant to be used daily. Think of the people of Israel while they were wandering in the desert for 40 years after coming out of slavery in Egypt. The LORD provided for them by giving them manna to eat every morning. They were called to rely on God’s daily gifts to them. And do you remember what happened when they tried to gather the manna to store it for tomorrow? It rotted and spoiled. It did so because God knows that collected treasures and goods get between you and him—they rot your relationship with him.

Therefore, it is pointless to insist that your heart is oriented rightly, while you hoard, collect, gather, and toil to build up earthly treasures, all while insisting that you don’t want to be “rich,” you just need to get all these things taken care of so you will be able to rest content. Actions speak louder than any words or verbal intention. What you work for and store up for the future tells the tale of your heart. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

And the size of one’s treasure does not matter. To think that we are free of the temptation of money and possessions because we have “less than the next guy” is dangerous. Think of Jesus’ original audience for these words. Here is Jesus addressing his disciples—men who have left everything, including their various jobs like fisherman and tax collector to follow him. These men—men who have quit their jobs and left their homes for Jesus—are the ones who are being warned about the danger of earthly treasures! Earthly treasures are so alluring that even those who are poor by all worldly standards must be continually warned about their danger.

Rich or poor, we are highly susceptible to influence from the things around us. “If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness.” Whatever our eyes look at, changes us. We soak in whatever we behold with our gaze. We are chameleons in a sense, because we become whatever we focus on and surround ourselves with. And we have surrounded ourselves with possessions and money. Therefore, Jesus comes to the conclusion we have been dreading: “No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”

Your intentions will most likely be very honorable—you will try to serve both God and money—and for what you think are very noble reasons. You will think that you can balance relying and trusting in God with accumulating wealth. You will think that once you have your wealth you will use it for great causes. You will think that there is no way that anyone can accuse you of “hating God” since you regularly give at church. But your actions will ultimately speak otherwise—your accumulation of the world’s goods will inevitably result in hate for God. In your attempt to serve both God and wealth, your eye will wander. Your eye can focus on only one object, and when it tries to behold both God and money, it has lost sight of God. No matter what your intentions may be, either you will love God or you will love the world’s goods. If you love God, you hate money. If you love money—if you accumulate wealth, if you want to get rich—you hate God. The words are harsh, but the line in the sand must be drawn. Jesus’ words are so hard because he cares for you so much. God and the world’s possessions are against each other because the things of this world reach for your heart. God is fighting for your heart. He knows that the world and earthly goods will fail you and lead you down the path of self-destruction.

Therefore, he calls out to you to see the dangers of these things which try to pull you away from him. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said it well:

“Everything which keeps you from loving God above all things, everything which gets between you and your obedience to Jesus is the treasure to which your heart clings.”

With stored up treasures you begin to rely on their ability to provide for your tomorrow and no longer on God.  Therefore, beware of your savings account, beware of your stocks and bonds, beware of your climb up the ladder of your career, beware of your house and property, beware of all your electronic toys, beware of your retirement nest-egg—these things are urging you to store up for tomorrow, they are begging you to rely on their promise for security over against relying on God for all things.

In the face of this, Jesus’ words ring out: “Is not life more important than food?” “Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” Jesus is challenging you to see that life is more than the fleeting possessions of this world. But your focus can’t be on simply getting away from money and earthly possessions—those will always be around you. Therefore, you must do something else—you must fill the space that earthly possessions once had in your life with something else. If you don’t fill that space, then you will find that even worse things will soon take the place of the space once occupied by money (Matthew 12:43-45). You must change the focus of your life to the proper thing. Therefore, the question is: Where are you going to look for your source of life? Where are you going to look for meaning and purpose? Where are you going to look for security?

Jesus tells us where to look: “Seek first the Kingdom of God and all these things will be given to you as well.” Jesus is urging you to repent—to turn your eyes, your entire life, away from earthly treasures to focus on that which is eternal—God’s rule and love. That is the only place for you to find real life—in God’s Kingdom. If your focus is on earthly things then you will stumble around and grope aimlessly in the dark. Your eyes will be darkened and your path will be obscured as long as you cling to the goods of the world. But you will be in the light if you look totally and completely to God’s love in Jesus Christ.

Therefore, let go of money so that you can take hold of life through following Jesus. If you cling to money you will let go of life. But if you forsake the treasures and wealth of this world you will find the true life that is found in relying on your Father in heaven to provide you with everything you need.

Jesus has already walked this path of true humanity—he has led the way and is urging you onward. He renounced all pursuit of wealth and money. He gave up every desire to store up treasures in this life. But this stand of his was offensive to the world. The world was threatened by his condemnation of everything they held as sacred. They couldn’t stand the fact that he was going to come between them and their wealth—and so they put him to death on a cross. But God did not stand for this injustice—he vindicated Jesus by raising him from the dead and exalting him as Lord over all creation. This declared to the whole world, once and for all, that Jesus’ way was the true way of God—the way of life.

Therefore, the same call goes out to you today: Forsake the empty pursuit of money and wealth in this life. Follow the path of Jesus Christ. Give everything that you have to help and serve those around you. And as Jesus was, so you too will be raised from the dead after the world rejects you and this life inevitably fails. Throw yourself into the hands of the living God—trust him completely for all things. In Jesus he has proved to be trustworthy! Let go of your money and take hold of life in Jesus Christ. Amen.

“Family Values?” – Matthew 10:34-39

“I have come to turn ‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother.’” “Christian family values”? “I have come to turn ‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother.’”  Is this the Jesus we are familiar with—the Jesus our culture has told us about? I feel like we have been told: “The family that prays together, stays together”…right? Maybe I am crazy, but it sure sounds to me like Jesus in our text is saying that the family that prays together will be divided and torn apart. What on earth is going on here?

And what about the words that we hear from Moses and from Paul in his exhortations to the church in Ephesus, the words of the fourth commandment, “Honor your father and mother”? How are we to understand these words? Is Jesus calling us to ignore them? Is Jesus saying he is here to break this commandment?

Jesus’ own words from our text help bring some initial clarity. Carefully pay attention to the progression: Jesus, one-by-one, steps through the “big three” priorities in our life and once and for all establishes his rightful place. Listen: “Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me”Jesus asserts his priority over the biological blood relation to your parentsNext—“anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me”—Jesus asserts his priority over the love and responsibilities toward your children, that is, your legacy And finally, just as we think he can’t get any more invasive—“anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me”—Jesus even asserts his priority over the survival and self-defense of your own life; he calls you to pick up a tool of execution and punishment and follow him to death. The words are hard, but the point is clear—Jesus’ claim upon your life will cut through even the strongest worldly, natural, and biological priorities.

So, today, the question is addressed to each one of us: Where have you placed family in your own life? Have you idolized your family? Have you placed your family before following Jesus? Have you missed the hard call of Jesus to leave everything—even your family—to follow him? I say we have. I say that in our culture, amongst Christians especially, we have placed the family in the place of God. Think of the group “Focus on the Family” or how being a Christian has somehow been watered down to beliefs on divorce, gay marriage, abortion, and traditional values. As important as those issues may be, why are Christians not more concerned about the first commandment of “You shall have no other gods before me” and Jesus’ call of “Go, sell your possessions and give to the poor…then come, follow me” (Matthew 19:21)?

According to Jesus it is not an issue of priorities—it is an issue of priority. God is not simply “number one” amongst others—God is all—God is everything—God stands alone. So often we make lists—in fact there is a placard in my house that does this very thing—it reads “Faith, family, friends.” Sure, we all place “God” or “faith” first on the list but this fails to appreciate the reality: nothing—nothing!—is worthy to even be on the same list, to be mentioned in the same breath. Jesus demands your all—he demands your entire life from beginning to end. His call will rock your world. It will shake you and your family and your entire life to the very core. Nothing will be untouched—everything will be overturned. There is certainly life, hope, and joy at the end of the day, but it has its costs—it will cost you everything you have—it will cost you your very life: “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

Therefore, Jesus’ call will inevitably bring division to families and households. Those we love can’t stand being in “second place”—much less not even on the list. They want our love that belongs to God alone—they want us to hold onto this life and to fight for them with all that we have. And when Jesus steps in, calling for us to pick up our cross and follow him to death—we are torn. We have our priorities of this life—priorities of parents, friends, children, spouse, self—pulling on the one side and the priority of God pulling on the other—and only one can win. And I know what you’re probably thinking—because I am thinking it myself: “Can’t we have both things? Are God and family really opposed to each other?”

As much as we want both—it is not possible. We can only have one master. Listen to Jesus: “No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other” (Matthew 6:24).  Think of Abraham, he was faced with this issue in a real way. He was asked by God to sacrifice Isaac, his only son. That may be extreme, but I can guarantee you there will be points—some subtle, some not so subtle—where your loyalty to family and loyalty to God will be at odds. Where pressures from your family’s busy schedule will tempt you to come to church only every other week or once a month—where pressures for that family vacation and the new TV for the family room will encourage you to cut back on your giving at church—where family activities with sports and clubs will tempt you to be a “Sunday only” Christian that is too busy to serve during the week—where “social time” will help you rationalize why you don’t need to be in Bible class—and on and on and on. The time will come, sooner rather than later, when you will be forced to take sides—you will be forced to choose your master. And in that moment which will it be—family or God?

To side with God will be a very lonely path—but so is the world’s alternative of choosing family. People in this world are always trying to find purpose, meaning, love, and fulfillment in one another. Through biological bonds, through friendships, and through sex people try to connect directly to one another. But this inevitably fails—we see it every time. Trust is broken, hearts wander, feelings grow cold, betrayal occurs, and despite being surrounded by people and relationships we are left alone—utterly alone.

You’ve felt that feeling before. The feeling of being in a room full of your best friends and yet you feel distant, out of place, alone. The feeling of waking up every morning and having breakfast with the same people but knowing they have no idea who you really are. The feeling of spending everyday of your life with someone and yet they don’t “get you” or understand you at all. So many companions, so many people, and yet no true companionship.

Therefore Jesus’ call goes out to you today. Come, leave behind that empty life. Stop your pursuit of family, companionship, and community where it will inevitably fail. Come, follow Jesus—join him on his journey to the cross, on his journey of obedience to the one true Father, your Father in heaven.

It is only in light of this—your journey to the cross—that you can now understand what the commandment, “Honor your father and mother”, really means for you today. Why do you honor your parents? Why do you obey the authorities in your life? Because, in following Jesus, all your relationships have been redefined—they have been changed, they have been made real. In him you have found your true Father, your Father in heaven. You now see Jesus Christ in all your relationships. Jesus has inserted himself between you and every person and authority in your life. He stands between you and your friends—between you and your children—between you and your spouse—between you and your boss—between you and your government—between you and your pastor—between you and your parents. This is what it means for Jesus to be mediator. He is the lens through which you see your entire life and all your relationships—all of them! He is the one through whom you approach all people and all authorities.

Therefore, we obey our parents and the authorities in our life as though obeying the Lord—we obey out of honor to our Father, our Father in heaven. Paul understood this perfectly. Listen carefully to how he explains our obedience:

“Children, obey your parents in the Lord….Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ. Obey them not only to win their favor when their eye is on you, but like slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart. Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men” (Ephesians 6:1,5-7).

Through Jesus the true relationships you have been hopelessly seeking are now given to you as you leave everything to follow him. True, your old relationships may not recover. Your biological family may not be able to deal with your radical following of Jesus. Your friends may look down on you. Colleagues may scorn you. This is part of picking up your cross and following Jesus to death. But in following Jesus you are given back a new family—a true and whole family which is held together by God the Father. Listen to Jesus’ promise to you: “Everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life” (Matthew 19:29).

You will receive far more than you left behind. This goes for both this life and the life to come after the resurrection of your body in Jesus Christ. “But how does this work in this life?”—you might ask. You can receive a hundred times more in this life because Jesus completely redefines family for you. He takes the old definition of blood relation and flips it on its head. We now find out that blood is not thicker than water—it turns out that water is thicker than blood. That is, baptism means much more than biological ties. Listen:

“While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. Someone told him, ‘Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.’ He replied to him, ‘Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?’ Pointing to his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother’” (Matthew 12:46-50).

That last line one more time: “Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” Through our baptisms, through our following of Jesus, we are transferred out of the family of the world into the family of God. This family is not defined by our biological bonds; it is defined by those who do the will of God, who is our true Father.

So, look around you—do it. This is your family. Look how many sisters, brothers, and mothers you have—and God is your Father! This is your community. This is your true family. Don’t overlook this blessing. Embrace it. See that in Jesus Christ you now have the family that will not abandon you or betray you.

The psalmist understood this. He saw the fickleness of his biological family, and in the Lord he saw the only one who is faithful and will never abandon you. Listen to his words: “Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me” (Psalm 27:10). Indeed, even when those who you look to for security, care, and stability, like your parents, either pass away or abandon or betray you, you have one who is forever faithful. Through Jesus Christ you have a Father in heaven whom you honor, cherish, trust, and love more than any earthly parent. He has provided for you, cared for you, and walked with you everyday of your life up till today, even when you haven’t been aware of his presence. And he will continue to provide for you, care for you, and walk with you for the rest of this life as you obediently journey to the cross. And when your journey to the cross is complete he will guide you into the joyous life to come at the resurrection of your body.

So, come today, celebrate this family as we eat together and have community and communion with our Lord Jesus Christ and one another.

And to this great gift we say: Thanks be to God, who is our Father and who has given us a family, through Jesus Christ our Lord! Amen.

“We are Beggars” – Matthew 15:21-28

“Wir sein pettler.”—“We are beggars.” According to reports, these were the final written words of Martin Luther. Lying on his deathbed, delirious from the discomfort that racked his body, he scribbled these words. “Wir sein pettler.”—“We are beggars.” Were these the ramblings of a man whose sanity had long left him? Or were these words the summary of a whole lifetime of experience and learning? Were these words the proclamation of one who had lost all faith and was despairing over the inevitable loss of his life? Or were these words the great testimony of one who had journeyed for years and in the face of death had finally understood the simplicity of what it means to have faith? “Wir sein pettler.”—“We are beggars.”

Her dark eyes are buried deep. They hide behind the lines of her face which, like the rings of a tree, mark the many hard days she has seen. Worries and stresses have shaped her face years beyond her age. Between her broken and cracked lips peek out her crooked teeth. Darkened from years of use and neglect, her teeth taint her breath with a distinct twinge of rottenness. Her clothes are worn and covered with stains, showing the difficult days of her recent past. She has not had much time for self-care—her hair is tangled and disheveled and her odor is pungent. The muddled combination of sweat, sewage, spoiled milk, and bile make those who come close to her involuntarily scrunch their faces and turn their heads.

When she repeatedly calls out to people for mercy they try to ignore her. They quickly pick up their pace, keeping their heads low, gazing at the path in front of them.  Yet her persistence sometimes pays off. Just to get rid of her people will quickly toss a few coins her way—anything to just stop her nagging.

To us, this woman is simply gross. A disgusting and repulsive speck of the dignity of humanity. She is a leech on society. She has lost all self-respect and society no longer respects her. And we hope that our paths never cross with the likes of her. 

This is the woman we come across in our text for today. As Jesus and his disciples were in the region of Tyre and Sidon, this foreign woman pestered them with pleas to save her daughter—her daughter who was stricken with a demon and who made her situation so hopeless and difficult.

Jesus ignored the pleas of this non-Jewish woman and the disciples got so annoyed with her that they urged Jesus to send her away. Jesus replied to his disciples, “I was only sent to the lost sheep of Israel.” Overhearing his response, this shameless woman threw herself on hers knees before Jesus, crying, “Lord, help me!” Jesus replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.”

Ouch. Dogs in Middle-Eastern culture, Jewish and non-Jewish, are almost as despised as pigs. They are never kept as pets. They are half-wild guard dogs or scavengers which roam the streets for garbage. This hurt bad. Jesus’ words had no sugar-coating. And Jesus and his disciples had every social reason to be disgusted by this entire spectacle. Down in the dirt, the woman kneeled—both figuratively and literally. She was not only a dirty foreigner before Jews, but a woman before men. The cultural hurdles she was attempting to cross were huge. And to top it all off she had not only been ignored, but now she had been disrespected, she had been insulted—she had been called a dog. How would she respond?

My first inclination would be to defend myself. I would be inclined to call Jesus out, to say “How dare you! I deserve to have you help me, I asked as nicely as I could, but you ignored me! And now you insult me?!” And then I would likely storm off. But this would be me being prideful. This would be me feeling a sense of entitlement. This would be me exalting myself to be more than I am.

The woman in our story did not fall into any this. Her struggles in life had broken her down so far that here in this moment she was resigned to simply agree with Jesus: “Yes, Lord.” She accepted the harshness of his words, because she knew—she knew they were true. Forsaking all pride, she embraced the reality which her life had shown her, the reality that she was nothing, that she was a dog who did not deserve anything. She knew she wasn’t entitled to any of this.

And here, accepting Jesus’ assessment as true, she could have turned and left. But she didn’t. She persisted. She humbled herself and begged. She knew she didn’t deserve a thing, but she also knew the one to whom to begged. She knew that he was good. She knew that he was generous. She had heard as much and she had seen it with her own eyes. And so she continued to push forward with the remarkable response: “But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”“Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Knowing that she was nothing, she demanded nothing. But knowing that Jesus was great, that he was Lord, she expected great mercy. And so she begged. And in this act she revealed a marvelous faith. Jesus quickly realized as much and praised her, granting her request to have her daughter healed. In her willingness to humble herself, in her realization that she was powerless, Jesus saw immense faith. She was not here to use Jesus—she was not here to manipulate him. She was simply here for his mercy. She was powerless to fix her situation. She needed something more, she needed someone more. And so she humbled herself and begged.

And through this woman, I learn a hard lesson about faith. I see that in a lot of ways people such as this begging woman, who I want nothing to do with, are closer to the Kingdom of God than those who are rich, blessed, talented, self-sufficient, proud, and entitled (Matthew 21:31-32) like myself. I wouldn’t dare find myself like this woman—without dignity and self-respect, down in the dirt, begging for mercy from one who had insulted me. I have far too much pride for that. But that is exactly my problem. My unwillingness to humble myself like this woman kills my faith and my relationship with God. Stanley Hauerwas put it well: “Faith is exemplified by our willingness to beg.” Listen to it again: “Faith is exemplified by our willingness to beg.”

In this woman, who I find so repulsive and wretched, we have one of the great illustrations of what it means to be a child of faith. Jesus repeatedly points to people such as this woman as examples of what it means to have faith—of what it means to be great in the Kingdom of God. Later in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus called a little child into the midst of his disciples in order to make this point very clear: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3-4). This is exactly what the foreign woman in our story did: she humbled herself like a child before Jesus. She fell to her knees as one who was helpless, as one who could not live without the scraps from his table. She was like a little child who was 100% dependent on the care of her parents.

“Wir sein pettler.”—“We are beggars.” In the light of Jesus’ teachings we can now see that Luther’s last words were not some faithless rambling—they were instead the great testimony of one who had learned over many hard years what it was to be a child of God. Luther saw that the call of Jesus was a call to humble himself before God. He saw that he was no more than the begging woman in our text. He saw that he, like the Canaanite woman, was a dog who had no right to the children’s food. And so he saw that his entire relationship of faith was one of a beggar who must wait on the crumbs to fall from the Master’s table. “Wir sein pettler.”—“We are beggars.”

This was the very heart of Jesus’ teaching about God’s Kingdom. “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12). Jesus embodied this life of a beggar as he humbled himself before both God and man. Jesus put aside all pride and sense of entitlement. He was disrespected, cursed at, insulted, and spit on. And yet he did not retaliate or strike back. In our story for today, even when his honesty seemed hard and cold, he ultimately burst through all social boundaries and had compassion on this foreign woman. Jesus continually turned the other cheek, went the extra mile, and loved his enemies with no strings attached. He could have avoided the cross, but he humbly threw himself into the arms of his Father, entrusting himself to the one who judges justly. And as he hung bloodied and dying on the cross he prayed for those who were persecuting him.

Therefore, Jesus is the great example of what this life of humility looks like. And you and I are being called to follow in his footsteps—listen to Paul: “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:5-8). Jesus made himself nothing. Jesus became a servant. Jesus humbled himself. Jesus became obedient even to the point of death. Jesus lived the life we are all called to live today—the life that the Canaanite woman displayed so clearly in our story—the life of faith, the life of humility, the life of a beggar.

We can live this life of humility today because just as Jesus stated, this life of a beggar ends with great joy, it ends in exaltation. You can humble yourself like the Canaanite woman and you can love your enemies like Jesus because Jesus’ road did not end with death—there was more. God, in keeping with his promise, did not leave Jesus in the grave, but exalted him by raising him from the dead and placing him as Lord over all creation.

In Jesus Christ you too have the same promise. In your baptism you have been united to the life, death, and exaltation of Jesus Christ. In your baptism you have been humbled before God and man and so you can be certain that when the Last Day comes you will be exalted—you will be raised from the dead to live eternally with Jesus Christ.

And so, just like the Canaanite woman, your daily life in baptism, your life of begging, is not from a prideful desire to control or manipulate. Your humble life of begging is because you know that the God of your Lord Jesus Christ is a gracious Father who will hear your every request. Listen to Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matt 7:7-11). This is exactly what the Canaanite woman in our text learned. God is gracious. God is good. God is generous. He will give his good gifts to his children that ask. So come before him boldly, but also humbly. Know that you are nothing and yet know that he will listen to your every plea because you are his child in Jesus Christ.

“Wir sein pettler.”—“We are beggars.” Yes, we definitely are—it is because we know we need something more, someone more. And that someone is our loving and merciful Lord Jesus Christ before whom we fall to our knees: “Lord, help me!” Amen.