September 2020
"I'll Be There for You"
Based on Matthew 18:15-20 (reading at the end of the sermon)
September 6, 2020
Friends is a TV sitcom that aired for 10 seasons on NBC, from September 1994 to the spring of 2004. The show was the story of a group of friends in their 20s and 30s living in Manhattan.
Most of us have watched the show, and I bet you might even be able to sing the theme song by heart. The chorus goes like this:
“But I’ll be there for you,
when the rain starts to pour;
I’ll be there for you,
like I’ve been there before;
I’ll be there for you,
cause you’re there for me too.”
The show revolved around six quirky characters: Rachel—a sheltered but friendly woman, who in the first episode goes to live with Monica, her childhood friend; Monica—a high-strung chef, who becomes the mother of the pack; Phoebe—an eccentric, guitar-playing masseuse; Joey—a handsome, but dim-witted actor; Chandler—a sarcastic IT manager; and Ross—a kind, insecure paleontologist.
Together, these six individuals demonstrated what friendship is all about. They modeled a new way of being family by showing a group of young people dealing with the humorous events of their everyday lives.
And working through the ups and downs, the gives and takes of any relationship. The program’s central message was “all you need is friends.”
Today’s Gospel lesson has that message, too. Though you have to wade through some serious material before you get to that punchline.
First, the writer of Matthew’s Gospel presents some guidelines for the early Church for dealing with the difficulties that can happen between friends in any kind of group.
Theologians tell us that this passage, which only appears in Matthew, offers a model for the Christian community at the end of the first century.
A time of great turmoil and change. Writing 50 years after the death of Jesus, Matthew tells the Gospel story from a Jewish perspective. In the context of everything his faith community has recently experienced.
Like the Roman destruction of the Jewish Temple and Jerusalem in 70 A.D. Like the deaths of hundreds of thousands of friends and relatives killed by their oppressors.
Like the complete reorganization of the Jewish religion from Temple worship to one focused on the local synagogue. Like the planting of the first Christian churches and their gradual separation from their original Jewish roots.
Losses and challenges not unlike the significant changes faced by churches today.
Here in Matthew, Jesus talks about how to resolve disagreements and tensions in this new context for worship and community. Guidance for how fellow believers should treat one another when conflicts arise.
Like when (in Jesus’ words) a friend “sins against you,” or hurts you, or betrays you, that you should go and talk with that person about it. Any therapist today would give the same advice. To engage in direct communication where each of you listens to what the other person is saying. If that doesn’t work, Jesus suggests that you invite a third party to act as mediator.
This passage from Matthew ends with Jesus telling us, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among you.”
The original Greek word for “gathered” in this sentence is synēgmenoi (συνηγμένοι)—the verb form of “synagogue,” which literally means to “lead together” or “bring together.” Of the four Gospels, only Matthew uses this word.
At the time of Jesus, Jewish leaders defined a synagogue as 10 or more people, also called a “minyan”—the Hebrew word for the quorum of adults needed to conduct certain religious services.
Here in Matthew, Jesus reduces this number to two. Jesus says that even when just a couple friends gather in faith and love, Jesus will be present. You could say that Jesus’ theme song is also “I’ll Be There for You.”
Other spiritual leaders have had what you might call theme songs. People like the poet Maya Angelou who passed away in 2014. Once during an interview with Oprah Winfrey, Maya sang an old African American hymn called “God Put a Rainbow in the Clouds.” *
The words went like this (I’m not going to sing it this time):
“When it looked like the sun wouldn’t shine anymore, God put a rainbow in the clouds.”
That song inspired Maya throughout her life. “I’ve had so many rainbows in my clouds,” she told Oprah. “I had a lot of clouds, but I had so many rainbows.”
Maya shared that she always carried these “rainbows” with her to her speaking engagements, whether to a large audience or small classroom. “I bring everyone who has ever been kind to me with me,” she said. “Black, white, Asian, Spanish-speaking, Native American, gay, straight, everybody. I said, ‘Come on with me. I’m going on the stage…. I need you now.’”
Whether her “rainbows” were living or dead, Maya drew strength from her friends. “I don’t ever feel I have no help,” she said. “I had rainbows in my clouds.”
Maya encouraged people to apply her song to their own lives in two different ways: First, by remembering the rainbows in your clouds. Friends who gave you hope during difficult times.
I’d like you to take a moment to visualize those individuals in your mind right now. To remember what they did for you. To see their faces and feel how they are still with you.
Second, Maya encourages each of us to be a rainbow in somebody else’s cloud. Today, I believe Jesus is calling us to do exactly that. Calling us to be a rainbow in this dark world. To create a welcoming community for those who feel lonely and afraid.
For when we treat others with kindness as friends, Jesus makes a promise to always be with us. A promise that even when we can’t worship the way we used to, the Spirit still hovers over us in our conversations with friends—during our phone calls, in our emails and texts, and, yes, even in our Zoom meetings.
A promise that even when we don’t agree about the next step in our shared journey, Jesus still walks among us. A promise that reminds us that even when we can’t be together in a physical space, we can still find new ways to be church and create community.
Community has always been the building block of Christianity. It’s where Jesus is present.
Community offers one of the best places to cope with the complicated stress and disillusionment of our times. Community is the only thing that can hold the depth of human suffering and pain we face today.
Within community resides the capacity for healing the sickness of our bodies and souls. Within community lies the possibility of friendships that lesson our personal isolation and loneliness. Within community grows the inspiration to do things we could never do alone.
Within community—even here in this weird virtual space between you and me—the love of God is alive and real.
As together, in our hopes and in our fears, we seek to serve one another with grace. And to say, “I’ll be there for you.”
As together, we seek to follow our friend Jesus. Amen.
-----------------------------
* “Dr. Maya Angelou: ‘Be A Rainbow In Somebody Else’s Cloud’”, Lisa Capretto, Huffpost; May 30, 2014; https://www.huffpost.com/entry/maya-angelou-oprah-rainbow_n_5413544
+ + +
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 18:15-20
[Jesus said to the disciples:] “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”
Most of us have watched the show, and I bet you might even be able to sing the theme song by heart. The chorus goes like this:
“But I’ll be there for you,
when the rain starts to pour;
I’ll be there for you,
like I’ve been there before;
I’ll be there for you,
cause you’re there for me too.”
The show revolved around six quirky characters: Rachel—a sheltered but friendly woman, who in the first episode goes to live with Monica, her childhood friend; Monica—a high-strung chef, who becomes the mother of the pack; Phoebe—an eccentric, guitar-playing masseuse; Joey—a handsome, but dim-witted actor; Chandler—a sarcastic IT manager; and Ross—a kind, insecure paleontologist.
Together, these six individuals demonstrated what friendship is all about. They modeled a new way of being family by showing a group of young people dealing with the humorous events of their everyday lives.
And working through the ups and downs, the gives and takes of any relationship. The program’s central message was “all you need is friends.”
Today’s Gospel lesson has that message, too. Though you have to wade through some serious material before you get to that punchline.
First, the writer of Matthew’s Gospel presents some guidelines for the early Church for dealing with the difficulties that can happen between friends in any kind of group.
Theologians tell us that this passage, which only appears in Matthew, offers a model for the Christian community at the end of the first century.
A time of great turmoil and change. Writing 50 years after the death of Jesus, Matthew tells the Gospel story from a Jewish perspective. In the context of everything his faith community has recently experienced.
Like the Roman destruction of the Jewish Temple and Jerusalem in 70 A.D. Like the deaths of hundreds of thousands of friends and relatives killed by their oppressors.
Like the complete reorganization of the Jewish religion from Temple worship to one focused on the local synagogue. Like the planting of the first Christian churches and their gradual separation from their original Jewish roots.
Losses and challenges not unlike the significant changes faced by churches today.
Here in Matthew, Jesus talks about how to resolve disagreements and tensions in this new context for worship and community. Guidance for how fellow believers should treat one another when conflicts arise.
Like when (in Jesus’ words) a friend “sins against you,” or hurts you, or betrays you, that you should go and talk with that person about it. Any therapist today would give the same advice. To engage in direct communication where each of you listens to what the other person is saying. If that doesn’t work, Jesus suggests that you invite a third party to act as mediator.
This passage from Matthew ends with Jesus telling us, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among you.”
The original Greek word for “gathered” in this sentence is synēgmenoi (συνηγμένοι)—the verb form of “synagogue,” which literally means to “lead together” or “bring together.” Of the four Gospels, only Matthew uses this word.
At the time of Jesus, Jewish leaders defined a synagogue as 10 or more people, also called a “minyan”—the Hebrew word for the quorum of adults needed to conduct certain religious services.
Here in Matthew, Jesus reduces this number to two. Jesus says that even when just a couple friends gather in faith and love, Jesus will be present. You could say that Jesus’ theme song is also “I’ll Be There for You.”
Other spiritual leaders have had what you might call theme songs. People like the poet Maya Angelou who passed away in 2014. Once during an interview with Oprah Winfrey, Maya sang an old African American hymn called “God Put a Rainbow in the Clouds.” *
The words went like this (I’m not going to sing it this time):
“When it looked like the sun wouldn’t shine anymore, God put a rainbow in the clouds.”
That song inspired Maya throughout her life. “I’ve had so many rainbows in my clouds,” she told Oprah. “I had a lot of clouds, but I had so many rainbows.”
Maya shared that she always carried these “rainbows” with her to her speaking engagements, whether to a large audience or small classroom. “I bring everyone who has ever been kind to me with me,” she said. “Black, white, Asian, Spanish-speaking, Native American, gay, straight, everybody. I said, ‘Come on with me. I’m going on the stage…. I need you now.’”
Whether her “rainbows” were living or dead, Maya drew strength from her friends. “I don’t ever feel I have no help,” she said. “I had rainbows in my clouds.”
Maya encouraged people to apply her song to their own lives in two different ways: First, by remembering the rainbows in your clouds. Friends who gave you hope during difficult times.
I’d like you to take a moment to visualize those individuals in your mind right now. To remember what they did for you. To see their faces and feel how they are still with you.
Second, Maya encourages each of us to be a rainbow in somebody else’s cloud. Today, I believe Jesus is calling us to do exactly that. Calling us to be a rainbow in this dark world. To create a welcoming community for those who feel lonely and afraid.
For when we treat others with kindness as friends, Jesus makes a promise to always be with us. A promise that even when we can’t worship the way we used to, the Spirit still hovers over us in our conversations with friends—during our phone calls, in our emails and texts, and, yes, even in our Zoom meetings.
A promise that even when we don’t agree about the next step in our shared journey, Jesus still walks among us. A promise that reminds us that even when we can’t be together in a physical space, we can still find new ways to be church and create community.
Community has always been the building block of Christianity. It’s where Jesus is present.
Community offers one of the best places to cope with the complicated stress and disillusionment of our times. Community is the only thing that can hold the depth of human suffering and pain we face today.
Within community resides the capacity for healing the sickness of our bodies and souls. Within community lies the possibility of friendships that lesson our personal isolation and loneliness. Within community grows the inspiration to do things we could never do alone.
Within community—even here in this weird virtual space between you and me—the love of God is alive and real.
As together, in our hopes and in our fears, we seek to serve one another with grace. And to say, “I’ll be there for you.”
As together, we seek to follow our friend Jesus. Amen.
-----------------------------
* “Dr. Maya Angelou: ‘Be A Rainbow In Somebody Else’s Cloud’”, Lisa Capretto, Huffpost; May 30, 2014; https://www.huffpost.com/entry/maya-angelou-oprah-rainbow_n_5413544
+ + +
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 18:15-20
[Jesus said to the disciples:] “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”
"A Question of Forgiveness"
Based on Matthew 18:21-35 (reading at the end of the sermon)
September 13, 2020
In his book, Dear Church, Lutheran Pastor Lenny Duncan tells a disturbing story from his childhood.
When Lenny was eight years old, his parents were struggling with chemical dependency. One day they announced it was time to “get it together.” Meaning that Lenny and his brother were moving somewhere new in the middle of a school year. Starting all over again with the challenges many kids face every day—trying to fit in and make new friends.
Lenny and his brother Daniel engaged in that battle on two fronts. One was the playground, where their poverty became a focus of ridicule. The other was at home. When they weren’t avoiding school bullies during the day, the boys were protecting their red-haired Irish mom and themselves from their African American dad—who could be violent when he was drunk.
One day in the playground at their new school, Lenny was approached by an older boy who lived in their apartment building. This boy had bullied Lenny before. This time, the boy picked up a large rock and threw it at Lenny, hitting him right on the forehead, drawing blood. As Lenny fell down, he was amazed to see his brother Daniel walk up to the bully and knock him out with one punch.
That evening at home, there was a loud knock at the door. When Lenny’s father opened it, with his wife behind him, he saw the father of the bully—wearing a white t-shirt with a Confederate flag and holding a shotgun.
Shouting racist slurs, the man told Lenny’s dad to keep his children away from his son. Lenny watched his father’s body tighten with fear. With the gun aimed at his chest, his father stepped in front of his wife to protect her. Finally after several tense minutes, the man left, his words hanging in the air.
In that moment, Lenny’s eyes were opened. He knew that people like that man would never let his family be safe. The terrifying encounter made Lenny realize what it really meant for him to be black. That a different set of rules applied to his family. “For the first time,” Lenny wrote years later, “I saw the difference in my parents’ skin.”
In his book, Pastor Lenny talks about racism and forgiveness, repentance and reparations. A lot of white people don’t like that last word. We think it’s all about money and property.
But for Pastor Lenny, the concept of reparations includes his desire for those moments of brokenness (like his experience) to be made whole again. He writes, “Reparations means restoring the sense of childhood wonder I lost. It means making eight-year-old boys feel safe.” *
Reading Lenny’s story makes me think about the way most white Christians only talk about forgiveness as an individual act. Like when someone hurts me, I forgive them. Like when you have an argument with your spouse or partner, and eventually make up.
In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus responds to a question about forgiveness. Peter asks Jesus how many times we should forgive. I think Peter was looking for a simple answer. Just like a lot of us white people are looking for a simple answer to racism.
Peter says to Jesus, “How often should I forgive someone? Seven times?”
Peter probably knew that rabbis in his Jewish community at that time taught that the maximum number was three. It’s like the saying, “Three strikes and you’re out.” By suggesting forgiveness was limited to seven offences, Peter felt pretty generous. Twice as many chances plus one.
Yet, while setting a limit like that seems logical, real-life situations often make forgiveness a much more complicated issue.
Like, how do you go about forgiving a loved one who does something that hurts you, then the next day says they’re sorry, without changing their behaviors? Or, how many times do you forgive someone who fails to keep promises or meet their responsibilities? Or, how often should you forgive people who say judgmental, hateful things about you or your family because of racism or homophobia?
I don’t have simple answers to those questions. Yet, Jesus seems to offer us a surprising challenge: “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” And Jesus uses a story to illustrate his point.
The parable Jesus tells sets up some incredible contrasts. One debtor owes 100 denarii. For the sake of simplicity, we could say it’s $100. Not really that much, though if you found a $100 bill on a sidewalk tomorrow, I bet you’d be excited. I know I would!
But compared to the other guy in the story, that was nothing. He had a debt of 10,000 talents. At the time of Jesus, one talent was worth 6,000 denarii. Today that might be $60 million! The point of the parable is that the man who was forgiven an incredible fortune refuses to write off what, in comparison, was a pittance.
Jesus uses this parable to talk about forgiveness. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus preaches about forgiveness and love and generosity.
Today, that kind of generous spirit seems in short supply. People are quick to post nasty comments on Facebook or Twitter. Politicians don’t hesitate in speaking ugly names and lies. “An eye for an eye” is the rule of the day.
In a world where seeking revenge seems like the first option for many, it takes courage to forgive. So, how do we as Christians live out the teachings of Jesus without becoming doormats for the rest of the world?
Forgiveness is clearly a voluntary act. After someone deeply hurts us on a personal level, forgiveness is something we choose when we’re ready to move on. Not always an easy thing.
Yet it’s even more challenging when it’s a social sin. Like, how do African Americans forgive our country for 400 years of slavery and oppression? Or, how do Native Americans forgive our government when it still engages in actions that ignore the original tribal treaties? Or, how do queer people forgive the Church for decades of homophobic preaching and polity?
There are no simple answers to those questions. And like with Peter who wanted to hear a simple answer, Jesus calls us instead to think about how we can do more than just the minimum required.
Jesus calls us to be a Church based on grace. To be followers who struggle with the challenges we face in our lives today. To be believers who admit we don’t have all the answers.
On this Rally Sunday, in a year unlike anything our St. Mark’s community and other congregations have ever faced, Jesus calls us to be God’s hands in our world.
Which means that our hands will get dirty. Which means that our hearts will be broken. Which means that our lives will be changed.
I believe that is our identity as St. Mark’s. It’s what we’ve always been. And what we will continue to be.
A community that believes in and lives out forgiveness and love and kindness. For all people.
A vision for a better tomorrow that’s in our hands. Amen.
-----------------------
*Lenny Duncan, Dear Church: A Love Letter from a Black Preacher to the Whitest Denomination in the US, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press/1517 Media, 2019), 41-42.
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 18:21-35
Peter came and said to [Jesus], “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.
“For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
When Lenny was eight years old, his parents were struggling with chemical dependency. One day they announced it was time to “get it together.” Meaning that Lenny and his brother were moving somewhere new in the middle of a school year. Starting all over again with the challenges many kids face every day—trying to fit in and make new friends.
Lenny and his brother Daniel engaged in that battle on two fronts. One was the playground, where their poverty became a focus of ridicule. The other was at home. When they weren’t avoiding school bullies during the day, the boys were protecting their red-haired Irish mom and themselves from their African American dad—who could be violent when he was drunk.
One day in the playground at their new school, Lenny was approached by an older boy who lived in their apartment building. This boy had bullied Lenny before. This time, the boy picked up a large rock and threw it at Lenny, hitting him right on the forehead, drawing blood. As Lenny fell down, he was amazed to see his brother Daniel walk up to the bully and knock him out with one punch.
That evening at home, there was a loud knock at the door. When Lenny’s father opened it, with his wife behind him, he saw the father of the bully—wearing a white t-shirt with a Confederate flag and holding a shotgun.
Shouting racist slurs, the man told Lenny’s dad to keep his children away from his son. Lenny watched his father’s body tighten with fear. With the gun aimed at his chest, his father stepped in front of his wife to protect her. Finally after several tense minutes, the man left, his words hanging in the air.
In that moment, Lenny’s eyes were opened. He knew that people like that man would never let his family be safe. The terrifying encounter made Lenny realize what it really meant for him to be black. That a different set of rules applied to his family. “For the first time,” Lenny wrote years later, “I saw the difference in my parents’ skin.”
In his book, Pastor Lenny talks about racism and forgiveness, repentance and reparations. A lot of white people don’t like that last word. We think it’s all about money and property.
But for Pastor Lenny, the concept of reparations includes his desire for those moments of brokenness (like his experience) to be made whole again. He writes, “Reparations means restoring the sense of childhood wonder I lost. It means making eight-year-old boys feel safe.” *
Reading Lenny’s story makes me think about the way most white Christians only talk about forgiveness as an individual act. Like when someone hurts me, I forgive them. Like when you have an argument with your spouse or partner, and eventually make up.
In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus responds to a question about forgiveness. Peter asks Jesus how many times we should forgive. I think Peter was looking for a simple answer. Just like a lot of us white people are looking for a simple answer to racism.
Peter says to Jesus, “How often should I forgive someone? Seven times?”
Peter probably knew that rabbis in his Jewish community at that time taught that the maximum number was three. It’s like the saying, “Three strikes and you’re out.” By suggesting forgiveness was limited to seven offences, Peter felt pretty generous. Twice as many chances plus one.
Yet, while setting a limit like that seems logical, real-life situations often make forgiveness a much more complicated issue.
Like, how do you go about forgiving a loved one who does something that hurts you, then the next day says they’re sorry, without changing their behaviors? Or, how many times do you forgive someone who fails to keep promises or meet their responsibilities? Or, how often should you forgive people who say judgmental, hateful things about you or your family because of racism or homophobia?
I don’t have simple answers to those questions. Yet, Jesus seems to offer us a surprising challenge: “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” And Jesus uses a story to illustrate his point.
The parable Jesus tells sets up some incredible contrasts. One debtor owes 100 denarii. For the sake of simplicity, we could say it’s $100. Not really that much, though if you found a $100 bill on a sidewalk tomorrow, I bet you’d be excited. I know I would!
But compared to the other guy in the story, that was nothing. He had a debt of 10,000 talents. At the time of Jesus, one talent was worth 6,000 denarii. Today that might be $60 million! The point of the parable is that the man who was forgiven an incredible fortune refuses to write off what, in comparison, was a pittance.
Jesus uses this parable to talk about forgiveness. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus preaches about forgiveness and love and generosity.
Today, that kind of generous spirit seems in short supply. People are quick to post nasty comments on Facebook or Twitter. Politicians don’t hesitate in speaking ugly names and lies. “An eye for an eye” is the rule of the day.
In a world where seeking revenge seems like the first option for many, it takes courage to forgive. So, how do we as Christians live out the teachings of Jesus without becoming doormats for the rest of the world?
Forgiveness is clearly a voluntary act. After someone deeply hurts us on a personal level, forgiveness is something we choose when we’re ready to move on. Not always an easy thing.
Yet it’s even more challenging when it’s a social sin. Like, how do African Americans forgive our country for 400 years of slavery and oppression? Or, how do Native Americans forgive our government when it still engages in actions that ignore the original tribal treaties? Or, how do queer people forgive the Church for decades of homophobic preaching and polity?
There are no simple answers to those questions. And like with Peter who wanted to hear a simple answer, Jesus calls us instead to think about how we can do more than just the minimum required.
Jesus calls us to be a Church based on grace. To be followers who struggle with the challenges we face in our lives today. To be believers who admit we don’t have all the answers.
On this Rally Sunday, in a year unlike anything our St. Mark’s community and other congregations have ever faced, Jesus calls us to be God’s hands in our world.
Which means that our hands will get dirty. Which means that our hearts will be broken. Which means that our lives will be changed.
I believe that is our identity as St. Mark’s. It’s what we’ve always been. And what we will continue to be.
A community that believes in and lives out forgiveness and love and kindness. For all people.
A vision for a better tomorrow that’s in our hands. Amen.
-----------------------
*Lenny Duncan, Dear Church: A Love Letter from a Black Preacher to the Whitest Denomination in the US, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press/1517 Media, 2019), 41-42.
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 18:21-35
Peter came and said to [Jesus], “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.
“For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by the throat, he said, ‘Pay what you owe.’ Then his fellow slave fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ But he refused; then he went and threw him into prison until he would pay the debt. When his fellow slaves saw what had happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his lord handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
"It's Not Fair!"
Based on Matthew 20:1-15 (reading at the end of the sermon)
September 20, 2020
Before my ministry here at St. Mark’s, I worked for 14 years as executive director of The Aliveness Project, an AIDS service organization in Minneapolis. Throughout that time, we never had human resources department. Because it was just me. I did all the hiring and firing. I also had to decide how much staff were paid.
In our Meal Program, we had a kitchen assistant whom I will call “Brandon.” Brandon had been there a few years before I started. Brandon was an HIV+ gay man and a dependable, hard worker. His part-time job was strenuous—standing on his feet for hours, preparing the salad bar, helping to serve lunch to 100 people each day.
Because Aliveness had struggled with finances, Brandon was paid a little more than minimum wage, which back then was $5.15 an hour. So, in my first year, I met with the food services director and we raised Brandon’s rate by one dollar. We did the same the following year. To me, it seemed like the fair thing to do.
The next year, when we met with Brandon for his annual review, he told us that he loved his job, but didn’t really need the money. So. he didn’t want a raise. Every year after that for the next 10 years, Brandon told us the same thing.
Brandon’s generosity is rare among workers. Some of the other kitchen helpers who worked for us thought they were paid way too little. Especially compared to our case managers and administrative staff who didn’t have to do such physically demanding work, but whose salary was twice as much. Even their supervisor told me that it just wasn’t fair.
The parable that Jesus tells in today’s Gospel lesson is the story of another workplace scenario. During the course of a day, a vineyard owner hires several workers. Some start at dawn. Others get hired later. And a few in the last hour.
All of them are surprised at the end of their shift, when each is paid a whole day’s salary. Those who worked the entire day resented not getting paid more than those who worked just a couple hours. And they tell their boss exactly what they think: “It’s not fair!”
But the employer doesn’t care. In my work at Aliveness, I often had to make a decision someone didn’t like. If you’ve ever been a manager or supervisor, I’m sure you’ve had to deal with that.
We don’t really know what motivated the vineyard owner. Maybe this job had to get done that day. Maybe the grapes were ripe and had to be picked. Or maybe the employer acted out of compassion. Maybe he felt sorry for the unemployed laborers. Maybe they needed to feed their families. Maybe some were people no one else would hire, like homeless individuals or the town drunk or immigrants without work permits.
But no matter his motivation, everybody expects their boss to be fair. To pay workers what they deserve. Instead, the employer surprises them with his generosity. To which they respond, “It’s not fair!”
Biblical scholars call this a “reversal parable,” where the expected result is flipped upside down.
Many Christians interpret this parable as an allegory. Where God is the owner, and the workers are believers like us. Believers who (even if we don’t admit it to ourselves) deep down feel that we deserve God’s blessings because we go to church, or because we do good things for others.
And even though we Lutherans believe in grace, it’s hard to swallow the truth of what that means. That the greatest sinners are welcomed by God. Even the people we don’t like. Because of what they believe. Because of their politics. Because of their judgmental attitudes.
Yet despite our misgivings, all are completely loved by God. So, that’s one way to interpret this parable. It’s not fair. But it’s grace for everyone.
But what if that’s not the only thing Jesus had in mind when he told this story?
I believe Jesus told parables to get us to think critically about the world we have constructed. To open our eyes to our privilege and cultural preconceptions. Instead of a spiritual allegory, I think Jesus tells us this story to challenge us to re-examine how God works in this world and our role in it.
It’s easy to see the vineyard owner in this parable in God-like terms because he is powerful. He hires workers and pays them the same. He expects that no one should question his prerogative to do what he wants. In his mind, he did what was good and just.
Though, of course, he wasn’t perfect. For despite his generous act, nothing really changes for the workers. The next day they’re back on the street looking for work. As vulnerable and powerless as any day laborer has been in any time. Even today.
It makes me wonder if Jesus was telling us that the Kingdom of Heaven is not just a promised paradise to make up for the pain and suffering that the poor experience in this life. What if instead of telling a simple moral story, Jesus is asking us as listeners to confront our preconceived biases? To talk with one another about what fairness means in our present world.
To consider, what if social justice were as important to Christians as individual salvation? Where the poor are paid wages that cover more than rent and food. Where black people have more power than police. Where female managers no longer face a glass ceiling. Where queer individuals get to determine what being treated fairly means for them.
What if Jesus’ parable is not so much about theological grace, but real-life grace? Lived out in the neighborhoods and churches, the corporations and governments of our world. I think we all long for that kind of grace today. And we pray for leaders who will embody that grace.
We lost one of those grace-filled leaders on Friday: Ruth Bader Ginsburg, a long-time member of the US Supreme Court. In a statement about her death, Chief Justice Roberts wrote, “Our nation has lost a jurist of historic stature…. Today we mourn, but with confidence that future generations will remember Ruth Bader Ginsburg as we knew her—a tireless and resolute champion of justice.” *
Ginsburg developed a cultlike following during her 27 years on the bench, especially among young women. Her fans called her the “Notorious RBG.”
As a justice, Ginsburg was dedicated to equality for women, but also had a deep passion for people of color, immigrants, the disabled and LGBTQ individuals. As a member of the Jewish community, her faith played a major role in that. Her parents fled Austria in 1938, escaping the Nazi Holocaust.
Ginsburg once said that she viewed being a Jew as having a place in society where you’re always treated as an outside, even when she--in her job as Supreme Court justice—was the ultimate insider. A striking example of how life isn’t fair.
That experience created a deep empathy in Ginsburg and a commitment to protect the outsider among us. A phrase from Deuteronomy 16:20 hangs on the wall of her Supreme Court chamber; it reads, “Justice, justice you shall pursue.”
Ginsburg died pursuing justice on day of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. A couple of us St. Mark’s members attended the online service that Temple Beth El Synagogue here in Fargo held that night.
There’s an old tradition that says when a Jewish person dies on Rosh Hashanah, it means that individual is a “tzaddik,” the Hebrew word for a person of great righteousness. A person who embodies justice. The kind of goodness where those who do just acts benefit as much as—or even more than—the recipients.
I believe that’s the kind of grace-filled living that Jesus had in mind in today’s parable. And I pray that God will grant each of us the grace to live out that kind of healing justice in our world today.
To welcome the outsider. To offer hope to the oppressed. To create fairness for all. Amen.
---------------------------------------------------
* https://religionnews.com/2020/09/18/how-justice-ruth-bader-ginsburgs-judaism-shaped-her-judicial-approach/
+ + +
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 20:1-15
[Jesus said to the disciples:] “The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’”
In our Meal Program, we had a kitchen assistant whom I will call “Brandon.” Brandon had been there a few years before I started. Brandon was an HIV+ gay man and a dependable, hard worker. His part-time job was strenuous—standing on his feet for hours, preparing the salad bar, helping to serve lunch to 100 people each day.
Because Aliveness had struggled with finances, Brandon was paid a little more than minimum wage, which back then was $5.15 an hour. So, in my first year, I met with the food services director and we raised Brandon’s rate by one dollar. We did the same the following year. To me, it seemed like the fair thing to do.
The next year, when we met with Brandon for his annual review, he told us that he loved his job, but didn’t really need the money. So. he didn’t want a raise. Every year after that for the next 10 years, Brandon told us the same thing.
Brandon’s generosity is rare among workers. Some of the other kitchen helpers who worked for us thought they were paid way too little. Especially compared to our case managers and administrative staff who didn’t have to do such physically demanding work, but whose salary was twice as much. Even their supervisor told me that it just wasn’t fair.
The parable that Jesus tells in today’s Gospel lesson is the story of another workplace scenario. During the course of a day, a vineyard owner hires several workers. Some start at dawn. Others get hired later. And a few in the last hour.
All of them are surprised at the end of their shift, when each is paid a whole day’s salary. Those who worked the entire day resented not getting paid more than those who worked just a couple hours. And they tell their boss exactly what they think: “It’s not fair!”
But the employer doesn’t care. In my work at Aliveness, I often had to make a decision someone didn’t like. If you’ve ever been a manager or supervisor, I’m sure you’ve had to deal with that.
We don’t really know what motivated the vineyard owner. Maybe this job had to get done that day. Maybe the grapes were ripe and had to be picked. Or maybe the employer acted out of compassion. Maybe he felt sorry for the unemployed laborers. Maybe they needed to feed their families. Maybe some were people no one else would hire, like homeless individuals or the town drunk or immigrants without work permits.
But no matter his motivation, everybody expects their boss to be fair. To pay workers what they deserve. Instead, the employer surprises them with his generosity. To which they respond, “It’s not fair!”
Biblical scholars call this a “reversal parable,” where the expected result is flipped upside down.
Many Christians interpret this parable as an allegory. Where God is the owner, and the workers are believers like us. Believers who (even if we don’t admit it to ourselves) deep down feel that we deserve God’s blessings because we go to church, or because we do good things for others.
And even though we Lutherans believe in grace, it’s hard to swallow the truth of what that means. That the greatest sinners are welcomed by God. Even the people we don’t like. Because of what they believe. Because of their politics. Because of their judgmental attitudes.
Yet despite our misgivings, all are completely loved by God. So, that’s one way to interpret this parable. It’s not fair. But it’s grace for everyone.
But what if that’s not the only thing Jesus had in mind when he told this story?
I believe Jesus told parables to get us to think critically about the world we have constructed. To open our eyes to our privilege and cultural preconceptions. Instead of a spiritual allegory, I think Jesus tells us this story to challenge us to re-examine how God works in this world and our role in it.
It’s easy to see the vineyard owner in this parable in God-like terms because he is powerful. He hires workers and pays them the same. He expects that no one should question his prerogative to do what he wants. In his mind, he did what was good and just.
Though, of course, he wasn’t perfect. For despite his generous act, nothing really changes for the workers. The next day they’re back on the street looking for work. As vulnerable and powerless as any day laborer has been in any time. Even today.
It makes me wonder if Jesus was telling us that the Kingdom of Heaven is not just a promised paradise to make up for the pain and suffering that the poor experience in this life. What if instead of telling a simple moral story, Jesus is asking us as listeners to confront our preconceived biases? To talk with one another about what fairness means in our present world.
To consider, what if social justice were as important to Christians as individual salvation? Where the poor are paid wages that cover more than rent and food. Where black people have more power than police. Where female managers no longer face a glass ceiling. Where queer individuals get to determine what being treated fairly means for them.
What if Jesus’ parable is not so much about theological grace, but real-life grace? Lived out in the neighborhoods and churches, the corporations and governments of our world. I think we all long for that kind of grace today. And we pray for leaders who will embody that grace.
We lost one of those grace-filled leaders on Friday: Ruth Bader Ginsburg, a long-time member of the US Supreme Court. In a statement about her death, Chief Justice Roberts wrote, “Our nation has lost a jurist of historic stature…. Today we mourn, but with confidence that future generations will remember Ruth Bader Ginsburg as we knew her—a tireless and resolute champion of justice.” *
Ginsburg developed a cultlike following during her 27 years on the bench, especially among young women. Her fans called her the “Notorious RBG.”
As a justice, Ginsburg was dedicated to equality for women, but also had a deep passion for people of color, immigrants, the disabled and LGBTQ individuals. As a member of the Jewish community, her faith played a major role in that. Her parents fled Austria in 1938, escaping the Nazi Holocaust.
Ginsburg once said that she viewed being a Jew as having a place in society where you’re always treated as an outside, even when she--in her job as Supreme Court justice—was the ultimate insider. A striking example of how life isn’t fair.
That experience created a deep empathy in Ginsburg and a commitment to protect the outsider among us. A phrase from Deuteronomy 16:20 hangs on the wall of her Supreme Court chamber; it reads, “Justice, justice you shall pursue.”
Ginsburg died pursuing justice on day of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. A couple of us St. Mark’s members attended the online service that Temple Beth El Synagogue here in Fargo held that night.
There’s an old tradition that says when a Jewish person dies on Rosh Hashanah, it means that individual is a “tzaddik,” the Hebrew word for a person of great righteousness. A person who embodies justice. The kind of goodness where those who do just acts benefit as much as—or even more than—the recipients.
I believe that’s the kind of grace-filled living that Jesus had in mind in today’s parable. And I pray that God will grant each of us the grace to live out that kind of healing justice in our world today.
To welcome the outsider. To offer hope to the oppressed. To create fairness for all. Amen.
---------------------------------------------------
* https://religionnews.com/2020/09/18/how-justice-ruth-bader-ginsburgs-judaism-shaped-her-judicial-approach/
+ + +
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 20:1-15
[Jesus said to the disciples:] “The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’”
"A Loving Choice"
Based on Matthew 21:23-32 (reading at the end of the sermon)
September 27, 2020
About a decade ago, an author named Seth Godin published an e-book called What Matters Now.* The book has a simple format. About 80 thought leaders were given just one page to talk about an idea that matters to them. Each page is summed up in a single word, like dignity and compassion and trust.
Dan and Chip Heath have a page with the title, “Change.” In the e-book they highlight key concepts from their other writings, including positive deviance and changing behavior.
They begin with a short story: A disobedient teenager named Bobby was sent to see his high-school counselor, John. Bobby often resisted doing what his teachers told him. Bobby had been in trouble so many times that he was in danger of being transferred to a special program for kids with behavioral problems.
Most counselors would have started by talking with Bobby about his problems. Instead, John asked him: “Bobby, are there classes where you don’t get in trouble?” To which Bobby replied, “I don’t get in trouble much in my class with Ms. Smith.”
“What’s different about her class?” the counselor asked Bobby. After talking with Bobby for a while, John came up with three concrete things his teacher did to help her student:
1. Ms. Smith always greeted Bobby at the door.
2. The teacher checked to make sure Bobby understood his assignments.
3. She gave Bobby easier work to complete. (None of his other teachers did those things.)
With that new information, the counselor had a roadmap for change. John advised Bobby’s other teachers to try those three strategies. Which they did. And eventually, Bobby’s behavior improved.
In our Gospel reading, Jesus tells a parable about two disobedient young men like Bobby, whose behavior changes for different reasons. When their father asks them to go work in the vineyard, one son simply refuses. But then he changes his mind and chooses to go. Probably because his guilt got the better of him.
The other son initially agrees, but then doesn’t go. Today, psychologists would call that “passive-aggressive” behavior.
At the time of Jesus, either choice would have problematic, because both would have produced shame. In Middle Eastern culture, any child who disobeyed their father one way or the other would have caused him to “lose face.” A cultural value that white we Westerners have a hard time understanding.
Shame is the focus of what Jesus was talking about. In fact, he goes on to name two groups in his society who were the epitome of shame: prostitutes and tax collectors. People held in disrepute by their faith community.
If Jesus were here today, I think he’d choose additional groups—people viewed by certain Christians as unworthy of church and salvation. Prostitutes would certainly stay on that list. But you could add Muslims and drug addicts, Black Lives Matter protestors and illegal immigrants, and of course, queer individuals like myself.
But that’s exactly the rub. Because Jesus says it’s those very people who will enter the Kingdom of God before those of us who think we deserve it.
Sometimes, I wonder how we got here. Like Jesus, I want to ask questions that many religious leaders and believers don’t want to answer. Like, when did the Church choose to stop taking these words of Jesus seriously? Or, how did the Church become so focused on deciding who’s in and who’s out?
Or, why do we still choose to allow racism and sexism and homophobia to influence how we treat others? Or, how have we turned the Bible from a message of grace for all people, into a book used to create guilt and shame in the hearts of children and youth, adults and elders?
In theological and psychological terms, guilt is defined as feeling bad over something you have done. Shame, on the other hand, is feeling bad about yourself or your family or the group you belong to.
Both are powerful tools used for centuries by the Church to control Christians and others. Both are still used today. And both are feelings that are greatly amplified because of our current social distancing that limits our interactions.
I think a lot of young people have a hard time with the Church and its emphasis on guilt and shame. More and more of them are falling into the category of “noners”—individuals who choose the “none” box when asked about their religious affiliation. And who don’t identify with any faith community.
Currently, one-fifth of all Americans and a third of adults under 30 fit that group—the highest percentage ever reported. Many say they are turned off by the ongoing condemnation of LGBTQ people and the judgmental attitudes of many Christians.
But at the same time, a majority of “noners” surveyed also think that religious organizations can still be a force for good in society—because they bring people together, because they strengthen community bonds, and because they help the poor and needy.
I like to think that’s what our St. Mark’s community is all about. Where our faith is not focused on making you feel bad about yourself, or what you have or haven’t done—like the two sons in Jesus’ parable.
Rather, together we make a loving choice to build up one another and create a place that welcomes everyone. No matter what group you belong to. No matter whether other Christians have condemned you in the past. No matter what some pastor once told you that you had to believe to be a Christian.
Our focus is not shame and guilt. It’s love and grace. The kind of love that still chooses to make a difference in our world today.
In his book, My Bright Abyss, the poet Christian Wiman writes about the power of love. He says:
“In any true love—a mother’s love for her child, a husband’s love for his wife, a friend’s for a friend—there is an excess energy that always wants to be in motion. Moreover, it seems to move not simply from one person to another, but through them toward something else…. That is why we can be so baffled and overwhelmed by such love (and I don’t mean merely when we fall in love; in fact, I’m talking more of other more durable relationships.) [Love] wants to be more than it is; it cries out inside of us to make more than it is.” **
For many people, both religious and nonreligious, love offers a glimpse of something beyond ourselves. Beyond what we know and see every day.
Love also changes you and me. It enlarges our hearts and our capacity to love even more. A mother who has one child doesn’t love that child any less when a second child comes along. Likewise, love expands with use.
Love is our calling as Christians. Love is what we choose to be as a community of faith. Love is what makes us children of God.
And that loving choice never ends. It dawns like the sun in our hearts each morning. And shines in our lives in this world today. Amen.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
* https://seths.blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/what-matters-now-2.pdf
** Christian Wiman, My Bright Abyss: Meditations of a Modern Believer (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011), 23.
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 21:23-32
When [Jesus] entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Jesus said to them, “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” And they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.” So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.”
“What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him. And even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.”
Dan and Chip Heath have a page with the title, “Change.” In the e-book they highlight key concepts from their other writings, including positive deviance and changing behavior.
They begin with a short story: A disobedient teenager named Bobby was sent to see his high-school counselor, John. Bobby often resisted doing what his teachers told him. Bobby had been in trouble so many times that he was in danger of being transferred to a special program for kids with behavioral problems.
Most counselors would have started by talking with Bobby about his problems. Instead, John asked him: “Bobby, are there classes where you don’t get in trouble?” To which Bobby replied, “I don’t get in trouble much in my class with Ms. Smith.”
“What’s different about her class?” the counselor asked Bobby. After talking with Bobby for a while, John came up with three concrete things his teacher did to help her student:
1. Ms. Smith always greeted Bobby at the door.
2. The teacher checked to make sure Bobby understood his assignments.
3. She gave Bobby easier work to complete. (None of his other teachers did those things.)
With that new information, the counselor had a roadmap for change. John advised Bobby’s other teachers to try those three strategies. Which they did. And eventually, Bobby’s behavior improved.
In our Gospel reading, Jesus tells a parable about two disobedient young men like Bobby, whose behavior changes for different reasons. When their father asks them to go work in the vineyard, one son simply refuses. But then he changes his mind and chooses to go. Probably because his guilt got the better of him.
The other son initially agrees, but then doesn’t go. Today, psychologists would call that “passive-aggressive” behavior.
At the time of Jesus, either choice would have problematic, because both would have produced shame. In Middle Eastern culture, any child who disobeyed their father one way or the other would have caused him to “lose face.” A cultural value that white we Westerners have a hard time understanding.
Shame is the focus of what Jesus was talking about. In fact, he goes on to name two groups in his society who were the epitome of shame: prostitutes and tax collectors. People held in disrepute by their faith community.
If Jesus were here today, I think he’d choose additional groups—people viewed by certain Christians as unworthy of church and salvation. Prostitutes would certainly stay on that list. But you could add Muslims and drug addicts, Black Lives Matter protestors and illegal immigrants, and of course, queer individuals like myself.
But that’s exactly the rub. Because Jesus says it’s those very people who will enter the Kingdom of God before those of us who think we deserve it.
Sometimes, I wonder how we got here. Like Jesus, I want to ask questions that many religious leaders and believers don’t want to answer. Like, when did the Church choose to stop taking these words of Jesus seriously? Or, how did the Church become so focused on deciding who’s in and who’s out?
Or, why do we still choose to allow racism and sexism and homophobia to influence how we treat others? Or, how have we turned the Bible from a message of grace for all people, into a book used to create guilt and shame in the hearts of children and youth, adults and elders?
In theological and psychological terms, guilt is defined as feeling bad over something you have done. Shame, on the other hand, is feeling bad about yourself or your family or the group you belong to.
Both are powerful tools used for centuries by the Church to control Christians and others. Both are still used today. And both are feelings that are greatly amplified because of our current social distancing that limits our interactions.
I think a lot of young people have a hard time with the Church and its emphasis on guilt and shame. More and more of them are falling into the category of “noners”—individuals who choose the “none” box when asked about their religious affiliation. And who don’t identify with any faith community.
Currently, one-fifth of all Americans and a third of adults under 30 fit that group—the highest percentage ever reported. Many say they are turned off by the ongoing condemnation of LGBTQ people and the judgmental attitudes of many Christians.
But at the same time, a majority of “noners” surveyed also think that religious organizations can still be a force for good in society—because they bring people together, because they strengthen community bonds, and because they help the poor and needy.
I like to think that’s what our St. Mark’s community is all about. Where our faith is not focused on making you feel bad about yourself, or what you have or haven’t done—like the two sons in Jesus’ parable.
Rather, together we make a loving choice to build up one another and create a place that welcomes everyone. No matter what group you belong to. No matter whether other Christians have condemned you in the past. No matter what some pastor once told you that you had to believe to be a Christian.
Our focus is not shame and guilt. It’s love and grace. The kind of love that still chooses to make a difference in our world today.
In his book, My Bright Abyss, the poet Christian Wiman writes about the power of love. He says:
“In any true love—a mother’s love for her child, a husband’s love for his wife, a friend’s for a friend—there is an excess energy that always wants to be in motion. Moreover, it seems to move not simply from one person to another, but through them toward something else…. That is why we can be so baffled and overwhelmed by such love (and I don’t mean merely when we fall in love; in fact, I’m talking more of other more durable relationships.) [Love] wants to be more than it is; it cries out inside of us to make more than it is.” **
For many people, both religious and nonreligious, love offers a glimpse of something beyond ourselves. Beyond what we know and see every day.
Love also changes you and me. It enlarges our hearts and our capacity to love even more. A mother who has one child doesn’t love that child any less when a second child comes along. Likewise, love expands with use.
Love is our calling as Christians. Love is what we choose to be as a community of faith. Love is what makes us children of God.
And that loving choice never ends. It dawns like the sun in our hearts each morning. And shines in our lives in this world today. Amen.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
* https://seths.blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/what-matters-now-2.pdf
** Christian Wiman, My Bright Abyss: Meditations of a Modern Believer (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011), 23.
GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 21:23-32
When [Jesus] entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” Jesus said to them, “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” And they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.” So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.”
“What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him. And even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.”