Sharing the Way

 

December 24, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Luke 1:5-17, 57-80

Today is a day of unexpected things happening – it is, after all, “Christmas Eve” – but right now, it’s morning. Our story from the Bible is about a Holy Family – but not the Holy Family. And that holy family – of Elizabeth and Zechariah – had given up hope of having a child, yet God has acted to bring about John’s birth. The unexpected continues in the story – Zechariah doesn’t expect to be struck mute, nor do the friends of the couple expect them to name their son Yehochanan, which means, “God is Gracious.” And I highly doubt that anyone expected Zechariah to burst into song after at least nine months of silence!

In our context today, telling the story of John’s birth is unexpected, because for so many of us, John seems like an ancillary character in the Christian story. Supporting cast – important, but maybe not all that memorable without the crazy costume and diet. But in the ancient world, John was the one who was widely known – and his connection to Jesus was the surprise! The historian Josephus, who was Jewish and writing in the first century, described grown-up John this way: “…John, that was called the Baptist… was a good man, and commanded the Jews to exercise virtue, both as righteousness towards one another and piety towards God, and so come to baptism,” washing their bodies to indicate that their “soul was thoroughly purified beforehand by righteousness.”[1]

Of course, all of that is about John later in life than we greet him this morning, at his birth, circumcision, and naming. Luke’s story of John’s birth intertwines with Jesus’ – John is born first, and is ready to “prepare the way” for Jesus. John is the forerunner – the vanguard – the trailblazer – and he knows it. His birth is very much a miracle to Elizabeth and Zechariah, and they have been warned to raise him as one dedicated to God, never touching alcoholic drinks, just as the prophets of old. Indeed, he has no need for spirits, since he’s filled with the Holy Spirit![2] I should note here, by the way, that not drinking alcohol was considered risky in the first century CE – it’s not like they had water filters, or pop, or even coffee or tea! Unfiltered water from wells and rain caused a great deal of sickness – whereas that same water, mixed with wine or beer, was much safer to drink. Fresh-squeezed juice – and milk – would have been available at least for part of the year, though.

So, Zechariah hears all of this from an Angel while he tends to the temple – and like Abraham and Sarah before, Zechariah doubts that he and his spouse will be able to have a child. He’s struck mute – perhaps as an encouragement to listen more carefully – but is able to communicate through writing. When Elizabeth becomes pregnant, you can picture the great hope and expectation with the couple – and a few months later, she learns that her young cousin, Mary, is also pregnant. Elizabeth is better at interpreting the signs that God sends her way – when she feels John leap within her womb, she recognizes it as a sign that Mary’s child-to-come will also be holy. The birth of John and Jesus, she figures, will be the beginning of a great time of transformation. And John will blaze the trail for Jesus to follow, recognizing that anything he does to prepare the way for Jesus will make that transition all the smoother.

Here's another unexpected moment: John is tasked with preparing the way for the Way – for Jesus says, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” But Zechariah’s song, his Holy-Spirit-Inspired-Prophecy, contains the instructions for John’s great task:

My child, as prophet of the Lord

you will prepare the way,

to tell God's people they are saved

from sin's eternal sway.

Then shall God's mercy from on high

shine forth and never cease

to drive away the gloom of death

and lead us into peace.

 John – the one named “Gracious is God” – is tasked with telling the world that there is forgiveness for sin – that God’s grace is here. That light will break through the darkness, even the shadow of death itself. That the Lord – the Holy One – is on the way.

That’s why we tell John’s story, even on Christmas Eve – because he shares the way with Christ Jesus. He shares the way to Jesus – recognition of ways in which we have fallen short of God’s plan for us – and he shares the way with Jesus – in the total immersion into God’s radical grace and peace. And John shares the Way itself, as we’ll see in a few weeks when we get to the story of John baptizing Jesus at the river Jordan.

Now, as we ponder the unexpected – in all the ways that John is set to prepare the Way – we can be reminded of the unexpected ways that God works in our lives, too. Just as John was tasked with guiding hearts toward forgiveness and grace, we too are called to embrace unexpected paths, to prepare and make room for the transformative power of God’s grace in our lives. Just as John’s family recognized the unexpected power of God working in their lives, so too should we see God at work with us. And just as John listened to God’s call to share the Way, we are also called to pave the way for reconciliation, forgiveness, and peace – even immersing ourselves in the radical love and grace of God, every time we remember our baptisms.

As we approach the celebration of Jesus’ birth, let us remember that this season is not merely about the expected trappings of tradition, but about embracing the unexpected grace that God offers. May we, like John, become heralds of hope, sharing the Way of love and peace in our communities and our hearts. I encourage you, when you have a quiet time in the midst of the holidays, to ponder on all the ways that God is calling you. How are you being led to prepare the Way – to live the Way – to share the Way? Where do you feel God’s grace most in your life?

May you hear the voice of the Holy Spirit, see the love of Jesus Christ, and live in the righteous grace of God. Amen!

---

[1] Antiquities book 18, chapter 5, section 2.

[2] Please pardon the anachronism of this joke – the term “spirits” meaning “alcohol” is a medieval usage that would not have been used before distillation technology was invented.

Pound Wise

 

Roman Bronze As (pound) coin
Obverse - head of Janus. Reverse - Prow of a ship

You've likely heard the expression "penny wise and pound foolish" - meaning that you can pay attention to the details and still miss the big picture. This, of course, makes more sense when you understand that the penny and pound are units of money from the UK - not a mixture of money and weight as it first appears in the US. We are so used to decimal currency - 100 cents in a dollar - that it's easy to forget that currency hasn't always been like this. Before the radical attachment to multiples of ten, in both currency and metric measurement, usually the importance was in being able to break something into pieces of equal value.

Foiled Expectations

 

November 12, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Proverbs 9:1-6, 10-18; Matthew 25:1-11

“Jesus’ parables are like a wrapped gift – part of the joy is in carefully unwrapping it, and being surprised by the contents.” Those were the opening words of a children’s message given at the church I attended and served in Seminary, and they’ve stuck with me all these years later. There’s a number of things that stood out to me – first, the casual assumption that kids will carefully unwrap a gift. I definitely was one to tear the paper, throwing it aside, rather than carefully lifting the tape and folding up the paper to use again. Next, the idea that parables, these “short stories by Jesus” as AJ Levine puts it, that these needed unwrapping. How often have you heard someone say, “the plain text of the Bible says…” or something to that extent? If a parable needs to be unwrapped, then the “plain text” readers are looking at the paper, and ignoring what’s in the box. But, it’s also important to not only look at what’s in the box – the meaning – and ignore the wrapper entirely. You can’t summarize the parables easily, ignoring how they’re put together. The wrapping paper and box’s contents go together. Jesus’ parables are a master craft in setting up expectations, and then foiling them.

The parable of the Bridesmaids, for instance, begins in the middle of the story. Jesus says, “The kingdom of heaven will be like ten young bridesmaids who took their lamps and went out to meet the groom.” Jesus is relying on folks knowing what a wedding ceremony was like. But our context for weddings is very different, and so it’s like we have an extra, unintentional wrapping. A gift bag, pretty in its own right, but it’s important to take the gift out of the bag.

For us, weddings are usually a ceremony in a church or other special place, followed by a reception nearby, and then the couple goes off on their own. We celebrate them, and they head off on their way to either a honeymoon, or at least a time of newlyweds, setting up their life together. But in Jesus’ day, the engaged couple would often live at the bride’s home, and the wedding would take place there, once the engagement was over. Then, the newlyweds would travel to the groom’s home, where his family and friends, and maybe even the entire village, would spend around a week with them, feasting and celebrating the wedding. It was a bit like the honeymoon came to the couple – and was combined with the reception!

The parable of the lamp-wielding women, then, starts in the middle of the story. The wedding has already happened, but the couple hasn’t yet arrived for the feasting. Jesus sets us amongst the expectant women – perhaps the family members, perhaps the friends – and involves us in their preparations to welcome the couple. Five of the women are wise, and five are foolish – and the only difference is the amount of oil they bring with them.

Now, let’s unwrap a corner of the parable – you’re probably expecting this to be about preparation. “Surely, Pastor Lucus, the foolish ones are foolish because they didn’t recognize that they didn’t have enough oil.” Certainly, that’s one way of reading the parable. Except – no one knew how long the journey would be for the couple to arrive. The way of the procession to the groom’s home was usually not by the most direct route. Even if they both lived in the same village, they would wind out of the cluster of homes, through the fields, over mountains, and then return. The journey was a road trip – an intensive way to get to know your new spouse in relative solitude. Plus, couples could get “distracted” on their journey, as newlyweds are wont to do.

That’s all to say – there was no way to know how much oil was needed. The expectation would be, perhaps, that you would take turns with the watch – saving the oil to light all the lamps when the couple arrived. But, our expectation of this is foiled, when in Jesus’ story, all ten light their lamps and fall asleep with their lamps burning. The wise and the foolish together – so that it is only when the groom calls out that the lamps are trimmed, oil re-added, and light shines forth again. At that point, however, the foolish ones have run out of oil – and so are told to go buy more from the marketplace.

This is another foiled expectation – that the wise ones, who have extra oil, do not share with the foolish ones. “But kindness! But generosity!” The only response to this is, “But relationship!” Let me explain. The foolish ones don’t have oil to keep their lamps burning. This doesn’t make them bad people, or even unworthy of being part of the party. Yet, they feel bad – and don’t want to be seen as foolish by the wedding party. Instead of greeting the couple, they run off to the market – and miss the arrival that they had been so excited for!

Now, the parable that Jesus tells has another reference in the wrapper that we should take a look at. By calling five of the women wise, and five of them foolish, Jesus is calling back to the tradition of the book of Proverbs, where Wisdom and Foolishness are personified as women. A brief note before diving in here: the first nine chapters of Proverbs are written as a letter from a father to a son, sometime around 1000 BCE. That means that, well, its discussions of a woman as “something to get” are fairly gross by our standards today, filled with a not-so-subtle “male gaze”. As it’s put in Proverbs 31, “Who can find a woman of valor? She is worth far more than rubies.” All that said, I still love these passages for all that they lift up about wisdom – and I love that, even in the patriarchal worldview, the ideal of wisdom was personified as a woman.

 So, in Proverbs 9, we encounter a direct comparison between Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly, a sort of Goofus-and-Gallant story. Lady Wisdom calls to you to feast at a big banquet, and she has prepared all the food, and even gone so far as to build the very house where the banquet will be celebrated! The food’s all ready, the doors are wide open, and even the wine has been pre-mixed with water, so that everyone who attends can feel warm inside without losing their head to drunkenness.

Meanwhile, Dame Folly looks to trap passersby into providing her the feast – she hasn’t prepared anything, but intends to get the attendees at her feast to steal the food and drink. The warning is that, on the surface, they look a lot alike – both Lady Wisdom and Dame Folly invite you in with the simple phrase, “Come in with me!” We likely expect Lady Wisdom to be like Glinda the Good, all shiny and bubbly, and Dame Folly to be Elphaba the Wicked, cackling in the corner with her green skin – but no – it’s not until you see how they act in private that the differences are evident.  

Too often, I think, we end up continuing along the path that either Wisdom or Folly have set before us without thinking. Is all that matters which you first heard call out to you? No – we are called to use judgment about the character of those calling us in, and leading us. It’s right to change course when you realize you’ve been duped by someone who sounded ok at first, but then is encouraging you to steal and cheat for their favor. Wisdom encourages those who attend her banquet to “begin to live and learn to use good judgment.” In contrast, Folly’s guests “are in the depths of the grave.”

So, let’s get back to the wrapped parable of the light bringers. As it stands, the light from the five torches is sufficient to greet the couple – there was clearly no need for five more! But if the wise ones had divided what they had equally, there wouldn’t have been enough light. I’m more and more drawn to the idea that the wise and foolish aren’t all that far apart here. Yes, the foolish ones might have noticed the extra oil – but they would have had enough if only they hadn’t left all ten lamps burning while going to sleep. Then, if they hadn’t run off, but had stayed, they could have been part of the reception – which is what the couple really wanted! In trying to cover up a mistake, they end up making an even bigger one.

Here, then, is the gift under all the wrapping – we all make mistakes. But what matters most is remaining connected to each other and to God, rather than trying to hide those mistakes. You see, throughout this parable, your expectation was for the oil to be the most important part – but your expectation for oil was foiled! Ultimately, whether you have a lot or a little, God is hoping to see you – to see you at the gate, to see you at the feast, to see you in the light your lamp burns, or that of your neighbor, if your lamp has run out.

The parable reminds us that life is a series of foiled expectations, where what we thought was most important may not be, and where our perceived mistakes can lead to unexpected revelations. As we journey together on the Way of Christ, let us embrace the imperfections of our own oil lamps – acknowledging that mistakes are not roadblocks, but opportunities to learn and grow in love for God and each other. May we always prioritize connection over perfection, finding our individual lights, whether flickering or blazing, are all welcome at the feast.

May God’s grace fill your lamp with the oil of faith. May the love of Jesus Christ prepare you for a more-than-life-long commitment to the Source of Love. And may the light of the Holy Spirit shine from you, guiding others to the joyous celebration of knowing God. Amen.

Saints Alive!

November 5, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Psalm 34:1-5, 8-9, 11-19; Revelation 7:9-17

As I was preparing for the sermon this week, I learned something interesting about the history of All Saints’ Day. We Presbyterians have only officially celebrated this special church holiday since 1932! That’s the year the first Book of Common Worship was published, linking the major Mainline denominations in the United States, and helping us follow the same church calendar and common lectionary. Episcopalians, Lutherans, Methodists, Reformed Church and Presbyterians, the UCC, the Disciples of Christ, the American Baptists, and many Unitarians, Mennonites, and even some Catholic churches agreed to work together, to follow the same calendar, and use the same schedule of readings in Worship. Some of the churches are more flexible about it than others, but at least there was unity in concept!

But why did Presbyterians not have an All Saints Day before then? The primary reason is, of course, that most Protestants had negative associations with the word “saints.” In the thirty years war and the religious league wars of the Reformation, “saint” became associated with “Papist Propaganda.” The Scots Confession, in particular, is filled with vitriol over the Catholic church and the connection to saints. And, in fairness to the Reformers, Protestant theology leaned heavily into the idea of the “Priesthood of all Believers” – that there was no need for an intermediary between your prayers and God. Instead of praying to the Saints and asking them to put a good word in with God, Protestants believe we can ask God directly – and confess to God directly, too.

But, while we have differing understanding of what a saint is, the concept of telling stories of God’s action in our lives is still strongly with us. Indeed, for us, a saint is not a separate, “almost-perfect” person to emulate – but someone who is trying their best to follow God’s way. This is how Protestants think about saints today – just as we have the “priesthood of all believers”, to some extent, we have the “sainthood of all believers”, too. Technically, the term sanctification means the lifelong process of a believer making choices to live more in the Way that Jesus has taught us.

In the Moravian church - which is one of the earliest Protestant denominations, predating even Luther – members are encouraged to write spiritual autobiographies, noting especially places where God’s presence was felt in their lives. Libraries full of these autobiographies are available for members and non-members alike to read in Moravian communities throughout the world. These are still a valuable resource to people to be inspired by the lives, choices, and actions of those who have come before them. In many ways, these stories of divine connection serve as windows into the “saints” of the church – the ordinary people, whom have encountered the divine acting in their lives. We’re all, in a way, saints alive!

We can also see this in ways that we teach people to follow the faith, whether as children or as adults. Psalm 38, for example, gives us wonderful advice, wherever we are in our faith journey. The Psalmist encourages us to follow God’s way, by blessing and praising God, honoring God and being radiant with joy in God’s presence. How does one honor God? By telling the truth, turning from evil, seeking peace and going after it. Praise God, honor God by always being truthful, turn from evil, and you will be radiant with God’s joy. It’s a simple premise – and, truthfully, sanctification sounds simple on the surface. Once you have committed to follow God’s Way, then follow it.

Of course, nothing is as easy as it seems. But God promises to be there through it all – God was there before you even committed to start on the path, and God will still be there holding you when your baptism is complete and you transition to heaven. The Psalmist even says, “the righteous have many problems, but the Lord delivers them from every one.” No matter what you face in life, God is there with you. And when your journey is complete, you will be with God, delivered from even the memory of evil, pain, and suffering!

Even when things are at their worst, the Psalmist reminds us to “taste and see that the Lord is good – Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in God!” Christians connect this with the communion table, of course – tasting the goodness of God through the grace-filled sacrament. Beyond this connection, though, is the idea that when you most need to take refuge with God, God will provide for you. At the most basic needs, God provides. Food, drink and shelter are wrapped in God’s love for you – with every taste you experience, you can recognize God’s presence. To extend the metaphor, every bite of food is alive with God’s presence. Every shelter from the wind and rain is alive with God’s presence. Every breath you take is alive with God’s presence. To recognize this is to lean into being a saint alive!

Of course, the saints alive today will transition to the saints eternal and triumphant, as has always happened. John the Revelator experienced something of this, through his dreams and visions during his exile on Patmos:

I looked, and there was a great crowd that no one could number. They were from every nation, tribe, people, and language. They were standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They wore white robes and held palm branches in their hands.

John notes that the people come from everywhere, knowing in the divine vision what would be impossible to know at a glance. They are beyond counting – and are varied in feature and language while still being unified in their symbols of victory, the white robe and palm branch. It testifies simultaneously to the universal scope of God’s love and salvation and to God’s ultimate victory over pain, evil, and violence. It shows John – and through his writing, us – that God’s plan of redemption extends far beyond whatever boundaries we might impose on it. It dismantles notions of exclusivity, and leads us to embrace a vision of God’s family – of the saints alive and saints beyond – who transcend cultural, linguistic, and ethnic barriers. We saints alive are blessed to be a part of this boundless reach of God’s grace, with all those who have gone before us.

John’s revelation also includes a difficult vision – that the white robes worn by the multitude are made white by being “washed in the blood of the Lamb.” There are songs and songs that use this rather disturbing description for all sorts of purposes, but I do not plan to do so today. Instead, I want to note two things – first, that the process of sanctification does not begin with anything we do or choose. Instead, it is God’s own actions of salvation, of Jesus’ sacrificial love for all the world, that makes it possible for us to be saints alive and saints beyond life. The “blood of the Lamb” is the paradox of life and death – but ultimately, it is in God’s initiating action in which we are saved. This is justification – the start of the sanctification process. We are made right with God through God’s own action, and not through our own. Yet, we still take the time to wash our robes carefully – the profound spiritual cleansing and renewal through our faith journey. We are called to respond to God’s grace and love with gratitude, and doing our best to follow in God’s Holy Way.

The saints we remember on this All Saints Day are people like us, with flaws, imperfections, and vulnerabilities. But they opened themselves to God’s transformational love. They embraced their calling with humility and trust, allowing God’s grace to work through them. And through learning their stories, we are likewise called to share God’s love in our lives.

How do we keep acting as saints alive? By being vessels of God’s love, extending that love through a hand of welcome and acceptance to all. By speaking truth and turning from evil. By telling our stories – and showing how God has been at work in our lives, as we take refuge in God when things are at their worst, and share the best of God’s radiant joy in everything we do.

 As we reflect on the saints who have gone before us, and those who stand among us today, it is clear that God’s love is active in the power of unity in diversity. Just as the many denominations found common ground in the Book of Common Worship, despite their differing understandings of what being a saint alive means to them, we are united in our belief that God’s transformative love is at the heart of our faith.

After all, we see God’s love transforming us in different ways, yet with the same core. Unity in God’s love does not require uniformity in our experiences. Let us continue to tell our unique stores of God’s work in our lives, for they are a testament to the richness of God’s love. May we be inspired by the unity we find in God and the diversity we cherish in one another. As we taste and see that the Lord is good, may we continue to be transformed by God’s love. May we follow in Christ’s Way, as saints alive. And may the Spirit guide us always to remember the lives of those who have gone before us, as saints beyond, until we are united again in heaven and the new life to come! Amen.

Ten Words

 October 8 & 1, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby

Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel

Today begins a sermon miniseries on the ten commandments – a two-parter, just as there were two stones on which the commandments were written. I’m borrowing a persistent idea in this series – that the commandments were divided across two tablets, and that the first three deal with God’s relationship with humanity, while the last seven are about humanity’s relationship with each other. However, this is not the only way to see things – and I think, by the end of the series, you’ll have a greater appreciation of the way the ten commandments have affected us – and, in turn, how we have affected the ten commandments!

First of all, let’s set something aside: no where in the Bible are these words referred to as the Ten Commandments! “But, Pastor Lucus!” I hear you saying, “What about Exodus 34:28?” You are very clever to have the verse number memorized! I’m very impressed. If you read it in the King James version, from 1611, it does, indeed say, “And [Moses] was there with the Lord forty days and forty nights; he did neither eat bread, nor drink water. And he wrote upon the tables the words of the covenant, the ten commandments.” Most English translations since then have used the same words, “the Ten Commandments.” But the Hebrew word used is not the word for commandment! It is, instead, the word for “things” or “words.”[1] Asheret ha’Devarim. The ten words – the ten terms – the ten utterances – the ten things. We do not have a word in English to hold all of what this entails. However, Hebrew does have a word for commandment – and it’s one you’ve likely heard before. Mitzvah is one part of the promise that God offers Isaac in Genesis 26:4-5 – “I will make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky… because Abraham listened to my voice, kept my charge, my commandments, my statutes, and my laws.”

Hebrew is not shy about using the right word for the right thing. So, the ten commandments should properly be called the ten words – and some English translations are starting to do this now, despite the weight of tradition against it.

So, the ten words are something like the overview of a contract, the terms and conditions of a website or app, or maybe like the outline for the lessons to follow. After all, all of the ten words are given greater detail later in Exodus and Deuteronomy. Like a list of terms and conditions, we often just skim through them to the bottom and hit “ok!” – but if we look carefully at them, we can learn quite a bit of what God’s expectations are for those who follow God’s way.

The first thing that God establishes is that this agreement is an exclusive one. If you agree to the conditions, then you must worship God alone. And who is God? “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” The very first statement establishes who God is – and what God has already done! Before the covenant has been established, God has already rescued the people from slavery. And God doesn’t want to have us confuse our actions with God’s actions. “You must have no other gods before me! Do not make idols and worship them, when you know me! Without me, evil and sin may take three or four generations to compound before it resolves, if at all, whereas with me, you will have steadfast love and grace for thousands of generations.”  

So, first of the ten words – keep the covenant exclusively with God. Don’t let the things we make take the place of God in your life. Great – that’s easy, right? After all, the idol manufacturers guild has long been out of business. While we may not make literal statues and fall down to worship them, we certainly still make idols in the world. Maybe it’s the stock market – worshipping the bulls and bears. Maybe it’s not of the market, but offering devotion to work itself. “Nope, too busy working to care for neighbor!” Maybe it’s a person – “Mister Big Man on Campus can do no Wrong!” – or maybe it’s a group – “I have to have the solid gold toothbrush model 2050, since it’s the only one recommended by the American Dental Lobbyists!” – or maybe it’s an idea that you worship – “The pursuit of happiness is more important than any other thing. If I’m not happy, no one can be.”

Following up on that idea, of not letting anything get in the way of worshipping God, the second of the ten words is, “don’t use God’s name lightly.” In ancient Egypt, where the Hebrew people had spent centuries, oaths and promises were sealed by invoking the name of the deities that were believed to ensure compliance. “By Thoth, I will not reveal this secret process for making beer.” But, of course, the Hebrew people followed only one God, so it became a reflex to offer oaths and promises in God’s name. The second word, then, is a rejoinder to think about what you promise in God’s name.

Of course, this means not using God’s name as part of profanity – but also to not claiming to represent God while acting against what God has taught. Don’t use God’s name to justify harmful actions that go against the principles of love, compassion, and justice. Don’t use God’s name to make yourself look pious, exploiting your religious ties for personal gain. And, following directly in the tradition of the Hebrew people, don’t use God’s name to make your own truth seem more genuine.

So, the ten words so far teach us that the covenant is exclusively with God, and we are not to invoke God’s name lightly. The third word reminds us to rest, remembering that God has freed us from endless work. “Remember that you were a slave in Egypt, but the Lord your God brought you out of there.” And the Sabbath Rest is not just for those in the covenant directly – but, as far as it is in your power, to offer rest to all, including foreigners, employees, and even the animals! Humans are not meant for endless grinding, but should instead emulate God, who takes time to rest. Maximum productivity is not the end goal – instead, we are called to balance work, study, and rest!

Worship only God. Think before using God’s name. Keep Sabbath, and give rest to all in your power. The first three words of the covenant with Moses and the people of God.

Jesus encouraged the keeping of these words, despite those then and now who insist that Christians don’t have to do anything from the “dusty old testament.” Indeed, Jesus specifically said, “Don’t even begin to think that I have come to do away with the Law and the Prophets. I haven’t come to do away with them but to fulfill them.” Jesus took the covenant seriously, and extended the direct meaning of the words. He taught, again and again, that it was love that was at the very core of God’s covenant with us. Part of exclusively keeping the covenant with God is to recognize when our actions against each other prevent us from carrying out God’s work in the world. In Matthew 5:23-24, Jesus says, “If you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that you have caused harm to your sibling, drop what you’re doing and go make things right – then, return and worship.” He’s saying, if you have caused harm to someone, that making that harm right, reconciling, healing, is of primary importance. It emulates how God has treated us. Just as God forgives us, frees us, and loves us, we are called to love, free, and forgive each other. That is how we keep God first – by remembering and honoring what God has done for us!

Today, we have discussed the first three of the ten words. Worship only God. Think before using God’s name. Keep Sabbath, and give rest to all in your power. These are the words that talk about our relationship with God – but the other seven deal with our relationship with each other. We’ll dive into those next week! For now, let us take time to worship and to rest!

May God free you from the burdens you carry. May Christ lead you in forgiving others. And may the love of the Holy Spirit shine throughout your life! Amen.

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Today, we are continuing the 2-part miniseries on the Ten Words. Last week, we talked about the way that the Ten Words – also known as the Ten Commandments, or the Ten Statements – are sometimes divided into two parts – God’s relationship with humanity, and our relationship with each other. The first three words, in plain English, are: Worship only God. Think before using God’s name. Keep Sabbath, and give rest to all in your power.

These ten words are unique among covenants with humanity in the Bible, because they are the only ones described as having been not just given by God, but written by God directly on tablets of stone. First, according to Exodus 19 and 24, Moses hears the Words and more from God, brings them to the Hebrew people, and returns with the collective will to agree to the covenant. Then, seventy-four leaders of the people – elders of the tribes – go up, and see God’s feet, resting on a floor of Lapis Lazuli – the bluest stone known in the ancient world, something like the stone on the bulletin cover this morning. Moses is called before God, ascending into the cloud, and the people are left below for forty days, after already agreeing to the covenant. That’s when Moses returns to find them worshipping a golden calf idol, and throws down the stones that God provided him, shattering them on the ground, representing the fact that the covenant had already been broken. But God calls him up again, and he returns with the stones containing the essence of the covenant, the ten words. Jewish tradition states that the stones were from the foundation of God’s throne, made of the bright blue lapis lazuli, the color of the sky itself. This is why the tassels on Jewish prayer robes are blue – to remind the people of the blue stone of the covenant. It’s why Lapis Lazuli was part of the garments worn by the chief priests. And it’s why the flag of Israel today uses sky blue as part of its design.

With that background, let’s turn to the fourth of the words written on the tablet: “Honor your father and your mother, exactly as the Lord your God requires, so that your life will be long and so that things will go well for you on the fertile land that the Lord your God is giving you.” I wanted to read out the whole text, as it’s often just summarized “honor your father and your mother” as though the connection back to God, long life, and the land is just incidental. Like the previous statement (for Sabbath), God provides the reasoning behind this one – honor those who have gone before you to show honor to God, and to make things better for you going forward.

Number four, then, is a cross-over Word – a transition from relationship with God to relationship with each other. In honoring your parents, you show that you are willing to keep the covenant that God is establishing. It is, in essence, a call to gratitude – to show thankfulness for those that have raised you, supporting them in turn when they need it. It is a reminder that the blessed ties that bind us together should begin with family – and it’s also why the genealogies appear throughout the Bible. Being able to trace your family back was a way of showing honor, and recognizing your place in the world as a part of God’s chosen people.

Now, about the word “honor” – in Hebrew, this word is kavod, the same word used for glory. But, it’s meaning is more direct – it means give weight to, like a thick woolen robe gives weight to the person bearing it. Glory and honor are recognition of the weight or burden of those who have lived long lives and carry the experiences with them. The elders of the families and tribes of Israel were chosen based on the weight of their experiences – often the eldest in the tribe would fill the role, but actual age wasn’t the most important consideration. The fourth Word, then, is about taking what your parents say with the proper weight – they won’t always be right, of course, but they’re right more often than kids tend to think! In honoring your parents, and teaching your children to honor their parents, the mantle of wisdom gains weight and continues to pass on through the generations, adding to the long life of all to follow. And ultimately, it is God’s great gift, of wisdom handed down, that allows the land to be worked properly and productively.

Give weight to what your parents say, and continue to pass the wisdom on. Great! Now, we’re into the words that actually are single words in Hebrew. These three words are Murder, Adulter, and Steal – and all carry the prefix of negation, lo – becoming not-murder, not-adulter, not-steal. And yes, “adulter” is a single word and concept, rather than the cumbersome, “commit adultery” that we have in English. Unlike every Word before, there’s no explanation for these. They are meant to stand on their own, with recognition of their importance.

But, we run into a problem of translation, again. In English, “murder” has a connotation of premeditated, illegal killing. The Hebrew word here, ratsach, has a much wider range of meaning. It comes from a root word that means “dash to pieces,” and it is used for violence of humans against each other – whether intentional or not, and whether or not the violence has been sanctioned by law, as in an execution. So, execution, manslaughter, and murder – all in a single word. It’s clear that the ancient Hebrew people also struggled with this – what does it mean to be called to war? To accidental death? Wrestling with the interpretation is something that we must continue to do today – but I tend to prefer “not-murder” as the intention here. Not killing each other, I think we can agree, is a good rule to live by.

In contrast, not-adulter and not-steal are pretty straightforward. Together with non-murder, these three words are about the actions we should not take. Don’t murder, don’t cheat on your spouse, or cause another’s spouse to be unfaithful, and don’t take what isn’t yours. The last of these, not-steal has another component in Hebrew that is missing in English – it also means “not-deceive.” Don’t take what doesn’t belong to you, yes, not even by deception.

That provides a great transition into the next Word – don’t bear false witness, as it’s traditionally rendered. A more literal reading would be, “do not respond with evil testimony against your neighbor.” This includes both making up a lie in court – the way we tend to think of bearing witness – but also the sense of don’t lie to your neighbor outside of court, too. Don’t speak evil words is my summary of this one, hopefully getting both senses together.

Give weight to your parents, and carry on their wisdom. Never participate in murder, adultery, or theft and deception. Don’t speak evil words.

That leaves us with two more to go – and these are more delicate. Now, instead of the actions and words, we’re dealing with sin of the heart and mind. “Don’t covet your neighbor’s wife and don’t covet your neighbor’s house or field, or servants, or ox, donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.” I’m going to deal with these two words separately, but make this note first: in Deuteronomy, the words for coveting of a neighbor’s spouse and coveting a neighbor’s things are different words. Even in the ancient world, the difference between people and things was clear. But we’ll come back to that in a moment – first, let’s talk about coveting.

Covet is an interesting word – we understand it, I think, as related to want or desire, but it’s rare that we use it in everyday conversation. Wanting and desiring something are a part of being human, though – we want and desire all sorts of things, and that’s not a bad thing, nor is it against the covenant. We might want to eat food, or want a place to live, or want a meaningful relationship. We might desire to change the way we look or feel, or a better job, or time away from the daily grind. But coveting goes beyond desire or want. It’s not seeing a neighbor’s new car, and thinking, “Hey, I really like that EV – I want to get one myself!” Instead, coveting is an intense, unchecked and envious desire for something specific that belongs to someone else. It often comes with a sense of entitlement and disregard for rights, feelings, or possessions of others.

Instead of “I want to get one like that for myself,” coveting would be thoughts like, “I want THAT exact car, and I’ll do whatever it takes to have it, even if it means taking it from my neighbor.”

Not surprisingly, coveting something is a very bad idea. In many cases of theft, the criminal had been stewing over the specific object for some time, cultivating an internal sense where taking the thing was justified, because the criminal thought it “would be better taken care of” by themself. The Word against coveting things is a warning against cultivating that depth of desire – recognizing it as a trap, and being able to turn your thoughts in a different direction.

Now, I mentioned that Deuteronomy uses two different words for covet in these two of the ten Words. It’s a subtle distinction, but the Hebrew for coveting a neighbor’s things means something like, “desire to take possession of” whereas the Hebrew for coveting a neighbor’s spouse is closer to “desire to take delight or pleasure in.” Some versions render this as “lust after” – which is fine in this context, but falls apart when the same word is used in Proverbs 1:22 – “and the scoffers delight themselves in scoffing” or in Song of Songs 2:3 – “in his shade, I took great delight and sat down.”

Add to this that, of course, there is no gender-neutral word for “spouse” in ancient Hebrew, so the Hebrew reads eshet, meaning woman or wife. However, the implication is clear – no matter the genders involved, “don’t crave delight with your neighbor’s spouse”.

 Worship only God. Think before using God’s name. Keep Sabbath, and give rest to all in your power. Give weight to your parents, and carry on their wisdom. Never participate in murder, adultery, or theft and deception. Don’t speak evil words. Don’t crave delight with your neighbor’s spouse. Don’t covet what your neighbor has.

As we reflect on these Ten Words, we see how they form the framework for a life of righteousness, compassion, and reverence for God. They guide us in navigating our relationship with the Divine and with one another. Through these commandments, we’re reminded of the weight of our actions, the importance of gratitude, and the value of wisdom passed down through generations.

May we carry the wisdom of these commandments in our hearts, living them out in our daily interactions. Let us honor our parents, respect one another’s lives and property, speak truth and guard against envy. In doing so, we not only honor the covenant with God, but also contribute to the flourishing of our communities.

May the Ten Words be a beacon, illuminating our path toward a life lived in accordance with God’s gracious plan. May we find strength we need to love and serve one another, thus fulfilling the sacred covenant between God and humanity. Amen.

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[1] I continue to find it fascinating that the Hebrew understanding of words and things are contained in a single word! (עֲשֶׂרֶת הַדְּבָרִים)

The Promise of Restoration

 

September 24, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Psalm 145:1-9, Joel 2:23-32

You’ve probably heard the old saying, “for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost.” It’s an admonition to pay attention to small things, since they have a tendency to affect bigger and bigger things. If you’re not familiar with it, I’ll share the whole saying with you, with this preface: “for want of” is an old linguistic construction that means “because [something] was lacking” or “because [something] was missing.” This version is one of the variations in Ben Franklin’s “Poor Richard’s Almanack”, though versions have been found written in French and German as far back as the 13^th Century.

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.[1]

I very much appreciate the way this saying illustrates the need to care for small things in order to affect bigger things – even though I struggle with this myself. As a person with Attention Deficit Disorder, I can either focus on the very large or the very small, but trying to hold both means losing both. It’s a good, humbling reminder, though, that I can’t do everything on my own. Fortunately, none of us have to do everything alone – for God is always with us, encouraging us to support each other.

In 2020, a number of small things went wrong to create a great disaster in the world. At the beginning of the year, a BBC/Netflix documentary crew was in Ethiopia to film the beginnings of the year’s gregarious locust swarm. A combination of warm and wet weather had let the swarms grow more than usual – and the 2019 civil war in Yemen meant that there were fewer containment efforts for the swarm. When the pandemic hit, the documentary crew left their cameras and drones, and coordinated with local Kenyans to get this footage of the beginnings of the locust swarm, on the march and beginning its flight. [2]

[BBC/NETFLIX - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAI6W2TOkh4]

This super-swarm of billions of locusts is, fortunately, rare. It’s the largest recorded in over 70 years, and finally ended due to rainstorms in the Himalayas weighing down the locusts and preventing them from continuing beyond the mountains. But seeing these insects changes how we hear the book of the prophet Joel these thousands of years later. Joel, it seems, is preaching in the aftermath of a locust swarm that has devastated Israel after the return from exile. This terrible event has destroyed entire fields of grain and grapes, meaning that there is not enough food and wine for the people, nor enough even to make sacrifices of food at the temple. The people of the land are justifiably worried – how will they survive? How will they survive as a family? As a nation? Will God forgive them for not being able to make the sacrifices at the temple?

Yet, after reminding the people of the terrible destruction they have faced, Joel brings good news: God promises to restore all that has been lost and more.

“Rejoice, and be glad… for God has given you the early rain in its season and sent down showers for you, both early and late, as previously. The granaries are full of grain, the vats spill over with new wine and oil. I will make up for you the years the swarming locust consumed – the jumper, the finisher, the chewer – my mighty force that I sent against you. You will have all the food you need to be satisfied...”[3]

 God’s action, in seeing the destruction and pain of the people, is not to turn God’s back on the people – but instead to reach out and give exactly what is needed to restore them. Yes, the loss of crops is terrible – but God sends the early rains to replace them quickly. When God says, “I repay you for the years the swarming locust consumed,” this is language that in Hebrew is used to settle debts; it’s like a divine insurance payout.

Now, when Joel refers to the pouring out of the spirit, he’s making a reference to other parts of the story. In Ezekiel 39, God says, “I will not hide my face anymore from them, when I pour out my Spirit upon the house of Israel.” And even earlier, in Numbers 11, Moses says, “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, that the Lord would put his Spirit on them!” Joel leans into these thoughts, noting that all who worship God have direct access to the Spirit.

But, Joel says, times won’t always be good. God’s vision and dreams of the Spirit show that things are looming on the horizon. Armies. Blood. Fire. But despite this devastation, Joel promises that there is safety, subtly referencing Proverbs 18:10: “Adonai’s name is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and become inaccessible.”

Joel, then, shows that God’s promises of restoration hold in times of bounty and difficulty. In fact, it could be thought of as a positive version of the “For want of a Nail” saying:

God makes promises of restoration
   God pours out the rains at the right times for the crops to grow
   The crops grow, and provide food to the people
   The people eat their fill and praise God
God acts on the promise of restoration
    God pours out the Spirit on all humanity
   The people grow in vision and dreams
   The dreams fill the people with hope in the midst of chaos
   The people praise God and survive
God continues to act on the promise of restoration

This promise of restoration that Joel makes is, of course, picked up in the book of Acts, when Peter refers to it taking place again in connection with the events of Pentecost. Peter explicitly extends the pouring out of Spirit on all who worship God. You see, we are all connected with God. We strengthen that connection any time we worship, any time we pray, any time we listen for discernment, any time we help, any time we hope. For God wants us to care for each other, and in so doing, praise God through the living of our lives! This is the praise of the psalmist: “They will speak of the power of your awesome deeds; I will declare your great accomplishments… The Lord is merciful and compassionate, very patient, and full of faithful love.”[4]

We know today that locust swarms happen because of rain at the wrong time and place. But rain also is the way that swarms end – when the wings of the locusts are heavy with rain, they cannot continue. Locusts eat the grain of now, but fertilize the ground as they go, providing a boost to the crops when they are replanted and regrow. God pours out the promise of restoration even in the midst of the great swarm – and God pours out the promise of restoration into each and every one of us, causing us to dream dreams of hope, and envision visions of community. Let us always keep our hearts open to God’s guidance – so that we can know when a nail is needed, and see that God has already provided it.

May God pour out the Spirit on you, that you may dream dreams of hopeful possibility. May God restore to you, in great and small, that which you need to survive. And may Christ lead you always, reminding you that you are loved by God and by God’s children, now and always. Amen.

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[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/For_Want_of_a_Nail

[2] The documentary team recovered their equipment and filmed the end of the locust flight in India – an incredible feat given all the shakeups in the world that year!

[3] Joel 2:23-26, selected, James Crenshaw trans.

[4] Psalm 145:6, 8

Graceful Possibilities

September 17, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby
Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel
Exodus 14:19-31, Matthew 18:21-35

Forgiveness is hard. Even though we regularly pray, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors” – we struggle with forgiving debts, both fiscal and emotional. Actually – you may be aware that there are two versions of the Lord’s Prayer in the Bible, in Matthew and Luke’s Gospels. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus uses the same word twice - “Opheilema” – a Greek word meaning “a failure to pay that which is due” – a debt. Luke uses “Opheilema” and “Hamartia” in the same sentence. Hamartia is literally an arrow shot that misses the mark, figuratively the tragic flaw of human character – and is the word we usually translate as “sin.” Luke’s version, then, states, “Forgive us our sin in the same way we forgive our debtors.”

  If you haven’t thought about what the Lord’s Prayer is actually saying in a while, that may be a big moment. In the prayer, we are asking God to forgive us in the same manner, or to the same extent, that we forgive others. That puts so much weight on our actions – I know I’ve thought about this passage before with worry – “What am I still holding on to that I should let go of? Will God forgive me if I haven’t forgiven everything?” When Peter asks Jesus, “How often will my sibling sin against me, and I will forgive him? Up to seven times?” it’s like he’s asking the same question – how often do I need to forgive someone else?

Jesus, of course, responds with the famous, “not just seven times, but seventy and seven times.” – whether he means 77 or 490 times, the purpose is the same – it’s not going to be an easily tracked number. You’re supposed to forgive, not to reach an arbitrary standard, but just simply forgive.

Then Jesus tells a story. A parable – a box of meaning to be unlocked again and again. In the story, a man owes a king over 10,000 talents of silver – an impossible debt to pay, as that would take over 50,000 years of work at minimum wage to even earn that stated amount. The king calls in his marker, the man begs for patience, and the king mercifully forgives the debt – releasing the man from the threat of slavery for his entire family. Newly released of his impossible debt, the man shakes down someone who owes him 100 days wages – and receives the same response, have mercy, and I will pay it in time. Instead of forgiving this much less amount of debt, the man has his debtor thrown into prison. The king hears about this, and applies the same logic to the man, throwing him into prison permanently.

I don’t know about you, but on the face of it, this story is terrifying to me. At first blush, I feel like the man was incredibly lucky to have that debt forgiven in the first place. But then I think – just how did such a debt come to be? Is it possible that the whole point of the king forgiving the debt was to say that there was never such a debt in the first place? That we begin with grace, a recognition that yes, we will mess up, we will miss the mark – but that God wants us to try again and again, and not give up.

Jewish New Testament scholar AJ Levine reminds us that Jesus uses the word “debt” deliberately: “It goes directly to the pocketbook;” she writes, “It says, don’t hold a debt. If someone needs, you give. The call is for economic justice.”[1]

Let’s go back to the Lord’s Prayer for a moment. What if God’s grace isn’t contingent on our forgiveness? What if, instead, we are asking God to help us forgive in the same way that we have been forgiven? “Forgive us our debts, as you help us forgive our debtors.” What if, instead of excoriating ourselves for the ways we have missed the mark, we recognize the grace-filled possibilities of forgiving others and trying again and again?

One of the earliest stories of God’s grace is from the book of Exodus. We know the story of Moses: “Let my people go!” he shouts to Pharoah again and again, and Pharoah doesn’t relent. Finally, Pharoah agrees, once God’s power to affect even him cannot be denied – but once the Hebrew people are underway, Pharoah reneges on his promise, and sends his armies to force the people to return to slavery and oppression. The Egyptian armies catch up with the Hebrew people in a terribly restricted place – backed against a sea, with no visible crossing. During the night, God’s very presence burns between the groups, keeping the Hebrew people safe as the winds blow in, separating the waters and creating a path of dry land. The Hebrew people walked safely across, when the pre-dawn light reveals them, and the Egyptians start to chase them.

God interferes directly, turning the wheels of the chariots and making their progress difficult. Some of the Egyptians recognize that God is present, and retreat, calling for others to do the same. But those who continued on, determined to enslave and oppress, to follow the evil orders of their superior – they end up caught in the floods as the waters rush back to their usual place. After that, the Pharoah sends no more armies after the Hebrew people.

At first glance, this hardly seems a story of grace. God’s actions seem more like vengeance or retribution than grace. Reading strictly, we might at first say, shouldn’t the Hebrew people have forgiven the Egyptians for breaking their word, and meekly come back with the armies? But of course not. As Debie Thomas writes, “Forgiveness isn’t pretending that an offense doesn’t matter… or assuming that because God is merciful, God isn’t grieved and angered by injustice.”[2] Forgiveness in this story is seen in fleeing rather than fighting. In trusting God to lead the people beyond the need for violence, and to continue to protect them.

God also acts to protect the Egyptians who listen. Turning the wheels to prevent the chariots from continuing causes at least some of the Egyptians to turn around, to recognize that they are acting in the wrong. The only ones who perish are those who foolishly follow Pharoah’s orders, even when it is clear that those orders are evil and against God’s will.

God sees graceful possibilities in a situation that seems to be impossible. Note that here, too, there is no immediate healing or reconciliation. The Egyptians that survived by running away do not make things right with the Hebrew people. Instead, they go their separate ways. Forgiveness here isn’t the end of the journey – but the beginning. At many points during the wilderness wandering, the Hebrew people want to turn around and return to Egypt – but they gradually recognize that God is leading them in a better direction. Forgiveness – Grace – is not quick and easy. It is a process that takes time, but gradually – oh so gradually! – brings an end to the weight of hatred and bitterness that prevents us from following God’s way.

When Jesus tells us to forgive seventy and seven times, he’s telling us to look for graceful possibilities. To bring forward love, instead of resentment. I love how Debie Thomas puts this, too: “If I’m consumed with my own pain, if I’ve made injury my identity, if I insist on weaponizing my well-deserved anger in every interaction I have with people who hurt me, then I’m drinking poison, and the poison will kill me long before it does anything to my abusers. To choose forgiveness is to release myself from the tyranny of my bitterness… To cast my hunger for healing deep into Christ’s heart, because healing belongs to him, and he’s the only one powerful enough to secure it.”

We respond to God’s grace – amazing, awesome, awe-inspiring grace – by being free to offer grace to others. By seeing new, graceful possibilities for restorative justice – a way forward that God provides to heal both oppressed and oppressor.

Nadia Bolz-Weber, a Lutheran pastor in Denver, describes mistreatment and sin as a chain that binds us unwillingly. But her words about breaking that chain are incredible: “Maybe retaliation or holding onto anger about the harm done to me doesn’t actually combat evil. Maybe it feeds it. Because in the end, if we’re not careful, we can actually absorb the worst of our enemy, and at some level, start to become them. So what if forgiveness, rather than being a… way to say, ‘It’s okay,’ is actually a way of wielding bolt-cutters and snapping the chains that link us? What if it’s saying, ‘What you did was so not okay, I refuse to be connected to it anymore.’?”[3]

So, my friends – what if you forgave the person that irritates you so much? Or the person that owes you a debt that cannot be repaid? Or even one that can? What if all of us, together, agree to forgive each other. What graceful possibilities would emerge then?

May you be forgiven and filled with God’s grace. May you forgive, and be filled with Christ’s love. May you see how forgiveness can change the world, and see the Holy Spirit at work, breaking the chains of evil, and bringing God’s good plan to fruition. Amen.

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[1] The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus

[2] https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2748-unpacking-forgiveness

[3] https://sojo.net/articles/sermon-forgiveness

Overcome Evil with Good

 September 3, 2023 @ Trinity Bixby

Rev. Lucus Levy Keppel

Matthew 16:21-28, Romans 12:9-21

After spending the last week with COVID, I hope you’ll forgive me for recording this sermon, rather than delivering it in person. Early in the week, my voice did that thing where, due to the build up of fluids in my head and throat, it dropped about two and a half octaves for a while. I rarely sound like myself when that happens – instead, becoming Basso Profundo for a day or two. It’s kind of fun, but I’ve had loved ones not recognize my voice – and that can be disturbing. Still, I was reminded that the last time it happened, it was just before I went to seminary – I was working for a country music radio station in Detroit at a grand event – the Downtown Hoedown. As part of my job, I was expected to escort country musicians through Campus Martius to reach their staging area. The crowds were thick, and though my voice was deeper as a result of spending several days outside in heat, haze, and smoke, it didn’t carry as far. I found myself standing up differently – straighter, making my presence known physically instead of verbally. I’m not normally an intimidating guy, but somehow, the deep but quiet voice meant that people did, in fact get out of my way, and the way was clear for the musicians behind to follow.

It was effective, I suppose – so much so that my boss pulled me aside, and reassigned me. Apparently, I was intimidating guests to the event. No matter how effective and efficient it was to clear a path that way, in the end, it was making the experience worse for guests, and thus I had inadvertently become a stumbling block to the whole thing.

It should be no surprise, then, that I identify with Peter in Gospel of Matthew – he leaps in, full of enthusiasm, and is praised for it. Jesus gives him the nickname “Rocky” – “Cephas” in Aramaic, “Petros” in Greek – for being the first to leap to the conclusion that Jesus is the Messiah. Jesus says, “I tell you that you are Rocky. And I’ll build my church on this rock. The gates of the underworld won’t be able to stand against it.”[1] Very high praise indeed! I imagine Simon “the Rock” BarJonah felt like he was on top of the world, looking down on creation[2]! That’s when Jesus starts to talk about the traumatic and difficult future he’s facing as the Messiah, and Peter jumps right in again – “God forbid it, Lord! This won’t happen to you!”

Jesus tells Ol’ Stoneface, “Get behind me, Adversary. You are a rock that could make me stumble, for you are not thinking God’s thoughts, but human thoughts.”[3]

From being named by Jesus as the rock on which the church will be built – to being called the Adversary. All in the course of 5 verses. Now, Peter’s crashed down hard, leaving a metaphorical hole in the sand. He’s got a few options: he could dig the hole deeper, he could try to climb out on his own, or he could stay in the hole for a moment and wait to see what Jesus says next.

Fortunately, Peter chooses that moment to actually stay quiet and listen to what Jesus has to say: “All who want to come after me must say no to themselves, take up their cross, and follow me. All who want to save their lives will lose them. But all who lose their lives because of me will find them.”[4]

In this specific context – after Jesus acknowledges Simon Peter’s messianic statement, and then rebukes Peter for asking God to forbid Jesus’ death and resurrection – Jesus is making the point that Jesus is not taking the easy path, and if you’re following him, you, too, will not be taking the easy path. It would be easy to puff yourself up as a follower of Jesus – “Look at how righteous I am! Look at how holy!” but it is much harder to follow in the way that he leads us. A way of humility. Of careful care for others. Of giving your life to make the lives of many others better. Not of bold swagger, of self-aggrandizement, of prosperity and ease.

Jesus’ way is the way of love. Paul attempts to dive into the specifics of what this love looks like at many points in his letters – most strikingly in I Corinthians 13, but also in his letter to the Romans. “Love should be shown without pretending,” Paul writes, “Love each other like the members of your family. Don’t hesitate to be enthusiastic – be on fire in the Spirit as you serve the Lord!... Consider everyone as equal, and don’t think that you’re better than anyone else.”[5]

You see, in the days of the early church, the world had fallen victim to an illness of spirit – an illness of pride. It’s an illness that continues to affect us today, wherein one person may look at another, and say, “you are beneath my notice,” or, “I am better than you are.” Conversely, some people might look at another and say, “You are much better than I am, so I can do anything to you and yours to get even.” This illness goes against what God planned for us – to be loved in unique ways, but all loved nevertheless. The treatment for such an illness is not a greater separation, hatred, even war – the treatment is instead what all of us need when we are sick. Rest. Nourishment. Care.

Yes, there are times when physical isolation is necessary. But the goal isn’t to be isolated permanently – but instead to be connected spiritually even when physically separated, until the illness is past, and we can be reunited again! When Paul writes, “Don’t pay back anyone for their evil actions with evil actions of your own… but defeat evil with good,”[6] this is exactly what he’s getting at. Heaping evil upon evil just increases evil – the only way to overcome it truly is to bring goodness where there is animosity.

Just as we nurture our bodies back to health, we respond to evil with practical steps. First, we can forgive each other, offering grace without payment, just as God has offered us forgiving grace. In this way, we overcome the evil of resentment – helping to see each other as truly beloved fellow children of God. Next, we can seek reconciliation – promoting healing and peace in the community of people we know directly. This is like bringing Gatorade or noodle soup to loved ones – healing in both body and spirit. Lastly, we can continue to advocate for justice through peaceful means, just as Christ has taught us. This is a way of both improving the health of the wider community, and helps to inoculate against the illness of pride returning again. Using your voice to advocate for those whom society is determined not to listen to – that’s a powerful medicine of healing goodness.

Through it all, we pray for one another – not telling God what to do, who to save, and so on, but asking God to hold us together. In prayer, we listen for God’s call, seek the healing and forgiveness that we need, and practice offering that same healing and forgiveness to others in our lives. Sometimes, we need to step back, and realize that we’re looking at others as being better or worse than ourselves – and we need to hear God calling us back to take up the cross and follow Jesus. We may need a time of rest and recovery – or we may need to offer that time to others with grace and love. Sometimes, that insight may come from others, too – be sure to listen when others tell you that you may be taking things too far. And don’t be afraid to reach out to others in this way, too.

My friends, may you be filled with the grace of God, the love of Christ, and the healing of the Holy Spirit, overcoming evil with good in your life and in the world. Amen.

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[1] Matt 16:18

[2] Inadvertent Carpenters reference.

[3] Matt 16:22-23

[4] Matt 16:24-25

[5] Rom 12 (selected)

[6] Rom 12:17, 21