Persistence!

Luke 18:1-8

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all of our hearts be acceptable to you Lord God, our rock and redeemer, amen.

Good morning. I am so happy to with all the good folk of Atonement and excited to be preaching a Word with you all today. A little about me is that I am the Common Ground pastoral intern this year, and I live in Downingtown with my spouse and our three cats. We moved up here from Virginia when I started attending United Lutheran Seminary in Philadelphia.

My wife and I are cat people. We recently adopted two of the cats after a friend died this past spring and have had a pretty steep learning curve of what it’s like going from one cat household to three. If you caught me in conversation since June and asked me how I am doing, I inevitably have equated how I’m doing to how the cats are doing. We have had to divide the house into territories for everyone to get along, split our time between the cats, and get used to new feeding schedules. If there is a lesson I have learned in the past four months, it is the persistence of cats. 

Clio, an absolute pain, digging into an empty cat food bag (this is not a paid advertisement!).

Particularly when they’ve decided they are ready for food. If we are anywhere close to their feeding time – like within four hours of dinner time - and get up from our desk or happen to walk into the kitchen, there is no end to the meowing from the two new cats. They will constantly rub against our legs and meow and follow us around the house starting around 3:30 in the afternoon some days despite not getting fed until sometime after six and I promise they have never missed a meal. It’s a real treat. And every time I look into their sweet little faces and just know they think we are being unjust. Why wouldn’t we just feed them? All of this could be over if we just put a little kibble in their bowls and let them snack. Don’t we know that they are just wasting away while we stretch out the time until it’s time for food? Sometimes I do not think I have known persistence as well illustrated in my daily life as I do the hope that lives in our cats’ little faces every time I stand up.

Minnie and Clio, pacing at my feet waiting for me to set their food bowls down.

Persistence is a key theme in our gospel this week; Jesus is telling his disciples a story to illustrate how we should be persistent in prayer. And then he goes on to talk about a widow who will not leave a certain judge alone. This judge doesn’t fear God or respect the people around him. But this widow will not leave him alone and finally the judge relents in her case. 

On our first read through, this could be read as a celebration of Women’s persistence over time. Like Elizabeth Cady Staunton or Ruth Bader Ginsburg or Malala Yousafzai or Angela Davis, Marsha P Johnson or bell hooks. When we pray – like the widow, perhaps we too shall move mountains. 

Another way to read this parable is as a re-definition of prayer. Greek Scholar Mark Davies: Prayer is not simply us talking to God, but it is any expression of a demand for justice. (for instance In The Hobbit, one is reminded that the word “pray” is not simply a religious term. When Bilbo continually asks forgiveness for offending Thorin upon their first encounter, Thorin finally answers wearily, “Pray, don’t mention it.” The word “pray” – in its widest definition – is simply a plea from one to another.) 

The plea for justice is often wearying and seems futile, because the powers that be often act with immunity – as if there is no moral order to the universe and as if there is no respect that one ought to have for humanity. if we pray without working for justice – then it’s just empty words. If we do justice without prayer & faith, we center ourselves in the imperative work of justice rather than centering Christ. Then when justice isn’t done, it leads to despair and lack of hope. However, persistence can be effective even in advocating for justice. In this sense, “prayer” would indicate not just our cries to God but also our ministry in this community here matters. There will be vindication of the true and just and there will be a slow, persistent journey of raising one’s voice over and over again. 

Now, I think we can all hope that our prayers are not being lifted to a God who we view as the unjust judge. Jesus say that God will not delay in granting the widows request for justice. If we did view God as the judge in this parable, I think there would be some trouble then in how we viewed prayer to God as some sort of transactional exchange. If we are the widow and persistent enough to have our prayers answered, what happens when they are not answered? Are our prayers not meaningful enough for God? Are we not persistent enough to have God’s with us? That’s not true. Each of us is beloved by God through Jesus. The truth is, when God is the judge, God does not delay long in helping. So what does that look like?

So what does that leave us with? Why would Jesus be telling the disciples this parable and why was it important enough for the Gospel writer to write down?

Our parable pivots at the end – and Jesus makes this curious statement about faith. He says “I tell you, God will quickly grant justice to them (those who cry to God day and night). And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?

While we are on earth, when we look to earthly justice – sometimes the world is the unjust judge. And perhaps it is the Son of Man, Jesus, who comes and persistently cries for justice to us. But the despair of falling into compassion fatigue, burnout from over work over stress has taken a grip on so many. As author Debie Thomas writes – the truth is, the judge lives in each of us, and if the parable this week has anything to offer, it is that prayer alone will wear down our inner judge.

The inner judge that says I have nothing to offer. The inner judge that lifts up our woundedness, fear, shame, inattentiveness, rather than our faith and hope in God finds us falling short. The inner judge that separates us from the love of God through Christ – who persists for us. Thank God we have a loving savior who will not quite on us. Who will continue to reach out a hand to us – to listen to prayer and bring us hope, love, compassion and grace rooted in the persistent symbol of a cross in our lives.

So yes, God is the ultimate judge who will not delay on our behalf. God is a just judge who will always listen to our cries. But God is also that persistent widow, coming up beside us in the most unexpected ways to remind us of how very loved we are. Giving us a persistent reminder to pray so we can soften our hearts, not be like the unjust judge that humanity can so easily turn to – and instead open ourselves to the work of the God’s Grace in the world. Through daily reminders. It might be a cat reminding you it’s dinner time. But the reminder to persist in faith and love and grace and hope can be found in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Symbolized by the cross and an empty tomb. 

What we are left with at the end of the parable is this question. When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?  Faith that persists? This is the question that matters. Will Jesus find such faith in us? May it be so and may we persist in prayer that seeks justice with Christ.

Amen.

A God who Celebrates You.

Luke 15:1-10

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer. Amen.

Today in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, is a day of service called God’s Work Our Hands Sunday. Across the ELCA, hundreds of churches participate in a variety of ways like packaging meals, doing park clean-ups, or supporting their ministry partners with a special act of service. Today is a wonderful celebration that we are one church, freed in Christ to serve and love our neighbor.

Service activities offer an opportunity for us to explore one of our most basic convictions as Lutherans: that all of life in Jesus Christ – every act of service, in every daily calling, in every corner of life – flows freely from a living, daring confidence in God’s grace

In my few months of experience at Common Ground so far, I have seen God’s grace at work in so many ways. God is in the stories we share. Both the Gospel and the sharing time that each member does during our worship service. God is in the meal, both the nourishing one we serve on Sunday afternoons and the Eucharist. God’s grace is also heard in the beautiful gift of music. Every service, we sing Amazing Grace, and this week I was really struck by one line: “I once was lost, but now am found.”

The idea of being Lost and Found connects directly to our Gospel reading today in Luke. Jesus is spending time with a wide audience: Pharisees, and scribes who are traditional Jewish authorities, but also sinners and tax collectors who were known to work with the Roman Empire. 

The Authorities of the time, who had invited Jesus to dinner where he was teaching, are now grumbling at him for his inclusive welcome to all. Not those people, they grumble. Not the ones who are sinning and we don’t approve of. Not those tax collectors who work with the Romans and don’t respect our traditions. And how does Jesus respond? By telling them stories about people in authority. 

He begins by telling a story about a shepherd whose job is to keep their sheep. Many people who were listening to Jesus speak would be familiar with this kind of caretaking. When the shepherd notices that one of his sheep is missing, he doesn’t cut his losses and sticks with the 99. It was his responsibility to keep the one hundred together, and by goodness, that Shepherd is going to go find who was lost. It’s his responsibility to find his lost sheep, not leave the sheep in the wilderness. And then the shepherd rejoices once he has brought the 100 sheep into the full community again. It is the Shepherd who does the saving here. 

Likewise, in the story of the woman who lost her coin, she upends her entire house to find it again. She sweeps out the whole space and when she finds it, she does what the Shepherd did and rejoices. 

These are two really beautiful stories of realizing that one was left out. One that belonged, was cherished by the Shepherd and the Woman, was lost. The Sheep and coin were their responsibility and belonged in the community already. They wouldn’t have gotten lost if it wasn’t for the shepherds and the woman’s to lose in the first place. 

These stories are not about outsiders suddenly finding salvation and becoming Christians. Rather, they are stories about us, each of us who come to church faithfully and reads the Bible, who by all accounts should be counted among the 100 sheep and 10 coins, but feel lost and separated from the Love and Grace of God. That is what sin is. Anything that separates us from God. 

It’s not that when we are found we are magically changed once and for all from a sinful lostness to a righteous found-ness.  We get lost over and over again, and God finds us over and over again. As Lutherans, we believe that we are simultaneously Sinner and Saint. We are both being lost all the time and being found by God all the time.

What does it mean to be lost? Is it that sudden diagnosis or illness? Is it turning on the news and seeing all the devastation worldwide? Is it the pandemic that has been ravaging our society for the past two and a half years? Is it stresses from overwork? Family conflict? Our own struggles with addiction, identity, mental health, heartbreak, unforgiveness, or hatred or bitterness?

It sucks feeling lost not only from God, but also from our community. Feeling isolated. We have spent the past few years feeling pretty isolated because of COVID. And it was all out of necessity but it was hard. And now we are trying to find our way back together. 

And God is right here, like the Shepherd and the woman, working hard to find us. They aren’t pretending to look for us like we might a toddler is ‘hiding’ under the covers as a pretty obvious lump. Oh no. God the Shepherd is scouring the wilderness looking for us. God the woman searching ever corner her home has had to get extra light and check every nook and cranny for us. 

And when we are found? There is a genuine celebration. Not a scolding of how dare we get lost - but a huge party. God calls up every neighbor and their neighbors to come to celebrate kind of party. God was genuinely scared when missing us and is ready to Rejoice deeply now that we are found. 

The Pharisees and Scribes were grumbling about who Jesus was including at the table. But God does not grumble when we come to the table. In fact, God rejoices DEEPLY that we made it to the table. 

What does this tell us about God? God is not hanging out where I suspected God to be at first. God is the seeker, trying to track down every one of us who feels lost. God is not settled in somewhere cozy, deep within the throng of the 99 who are content to stick together or stops counting at 9 coins with a shrug of, well maybe this is enough. 

God knows the journeys we’ve been on. The wildernesses we have been through and the furniture we have slipped behind. God is not satisfied until we are all together. God is out here searching for each of us. Which means, that if I am with God, I need to get a little lost too. I need to also seek the lost. I need to seek not only other people who feel Lost but recognize how I am lost and need to be found. 

And through no power of my own will I be found. God will do the finding, all we need to do is recognize our need for God and God will do the rest. Saved by God’s grace to be God’s hands and feet in the world.

This isn’t always easy. I know I need God but sometimes I am really good at pretending I can find myself all on my own. This requires trust that God wants to find me when I’m feeling lost. We have to trust God that we are enough as we are and that God thinks we are worth looking for. And we have to trust that when God gets us back, God is going to throw a huge celebration. 

God loves us so much. God loves us so much that God sent his own child Jesus to come among us and preach the Gospel and bring us into everlasting life with God. This is Amazing Grace When we are lost, we will be found. And Thanks be to God for that. Amen.

Semetimes we're the ones left in the ditch.

Luke 10:25-37

We begin with an expert of the law asking Jesus how to inherit eternal life. Jesus, who rarely answers a question directly asks what the law has to say. The expert in the law rightly recites Leviticus: Love your God with all your heart, soul, and strength, and your neighbor as yourself. Jesus says yup, that’s the textbook answer. Easy as pie. Then the law expert asks, well, who is my neighbor. And maybe the expert in the law is thinking, well, who isn’t my neighbor? It's not defined in the text. Is it just the people who live on my street? Who lives in my town? State? Country? Then Jesus launches into the parable we’ve all heard maybe a million times.

The parable of the Good Samaritan is probably one of the most common stories and concepts we run into inside and outside the church. There are Good Samaritan laws, protections for strangers who give reasonable assistance in life-threatening situations, or relief agencies that support people who are housing insecure. The story of the Good Samaritan is everywhere – I think in an ideal world we would all act like the Good Samaritan did in this parable. We teach this story to our kids in Sunday school. I remember as a kid in a church choir, we sang a song from Veggietales about loving our neighbor based on this parable. One lyric that has always stuck with me was: 

“My hair is curly, your hair is not

But when we look deeper, there's more that we've got

God made us special and now I can see

If you're special to God then you're special to me

Love your neighbor

When someone helps you, then you'll understand

When you love your neighbor

Loving means lending a hand”

This is one of my core formations as a Christian. And I think it is such an important message from Jesus, particularly to teach our young people and live out through our lives. Be good to our neighbor like the Samaritan was. The Samaritan was acting Christlike by helping someone in need, and so can we. Help where and when we can like the Samaritan. See that God made us special and God made our neighbor special too, just like the Samaritan did.

This is a parable as old as time at this point. Sometimes I hear this story and I say okay, yup, got it. I have heard this story a million times and I will hear it a million more times. I need to remember to love my neighbor extra hard this week just like I heard on Sunday. And my neighbor is anyone I can show mercy to, okay go it. I feel like I can check a box off my spiritual to-do list and move on.

But Jesus does not call us to move on and simply check an “I did good by loving my neighbor this week” box. If we are not careful, we can tell ourselves: we got this lesson as a kid and we love our neighbor enough already. We can become a little complacent. Jesus calls us to love God and love our neighbor all the time. Just as Jesus loved us so much to die for us all, so are we called to love our neighbors. And if I’m being honest with myself, I am not always good at doing those two things all the time. We are human, after all. We can’t get it right all the time. That’s why we need to hear this parable from Jesus and sit with it from time to time, and maybe think about it in a new way. 

One thing a colleague once asked a group I was in to consider was: what if we weren’t the Samaritan in the story. Which character would we be then?

Some days, I am in a hurry and I pass by the man on the side of the road like the priest. Or like the Levite, I don’t think I have anything to offer the person in need who I walk by. I know I can come up with a million excuses why I did not pause to help someone in need. It’s really easy to do. I can get caught up in the busyness of my own life, of trying to live up to living a grand like I see on TV or in the news, and forget that I am following someone who offers eternal life. Not the life as seen on tv.

Some days, I might even feel like the person left for dead in the ditch. And while those situations might not actually be life threatening, they can be devastating. Some days it’s my mental health. Or being overwhelmed with responsibilities because I said yes to too much. It’s a flat tire on the side of a highway, damages from a storm, a devastating divorce, or holding a loved one’s hand as she dies after a long battle with breast cancer. Some days it's circumstances outside of our control, leaving us behind feeling wrecked.

And who comes ambling down the road? The Samaritan.

Now, a little historical context about the Samaritans and the Jews in first-century Palestine. There was an ancient and bitter rivalry between these two groups of people. The two groups disagreed about everything that mattered: how to honor God, how to interpret the Scriptures, and how and where to worship.  They practiced their faith in separate temples, read different versions of the Torah, and avoided social contact with each other whenever possible. They hated each other. So while we are inclined to like the Samaritan in our modern reading, the disciples listening to this story were scandalized.

“What do you mean, Jesus, that a Samaritan would stop to help this man? A Samaritan would never. His heart would be cold and closed off from compassion and kindness and mercy.”

There are all sorts of narratives we tell about a group that is apart from our own to separate us as “us versus them.” 

But here is Jesus, answering the question of “who is my neighbor?” by telling a story that has many layers. The first is the one I said earlier. We are to be like the Good Samaritan – showing mercy to our neighbor. The second is to be like the person left for dead in the ditch, open to receiving help when in need. The person left for dead is not identified by their ethnicity, or job, or social class. This person is identified by their naked need in that moment. The person on the side of the road is in need of compassion, kindness, and mercy.

And when we are left broken on the side of the road, all those labels seem to fall away. Divisions between us and them are not as important anymore. Our need comes first and is the only thing that matters. And if you haven’t experienced this, maybe one day you will.

Somehow, someday, somewhere, we will. In a hospital room? At a graveside? After a marriage fails? After the storm, the family fight, a devastating injury, or diagnosis? Somehow, someday, somewhere. In every single one of our lives, it will happen.

And who comes beside us in those moments? Who is our neighbor in that time? It will be the one who scandalizes us with compassion, kindness, and mercy. 

At the end of the parable, the lawyer doesn’t identify the neighbor by ethnicity. The Lawyer identifies the neighbor by action. The one who shows compassion, kindness, and above all, mercy. Jesus charges us to go and do likewise.

I also charge us to go and receive likewise from someone who scandalizes us.

Amen.