Sunday, July 15, 2007
Last Sermon for a While
Below is my last sermon for some time, as I am leaving the parish to return to school. However, I will still be preaching on occasion, and when I do, I will post here. Otherwise, I will be posting more school related things - thoughts from class discussions, paper excerpts, etc. I'm glad that there have been people out in "internet-land" that my sermons have been of interest to, and I'm grateful to God that the Gospel to my particular congregation has found resonance with you.
Sunday, July 15, 2007 - Risky Behaviour
Col 1:1-14
Luke 10:25-37
I want to start by reading you something from Leviticus 21 and 22. "And the LORD said to Moses, "Speak to the priests, the sons of Aaron, and say to them that none of them shall defile himself for the dead among his people... If any one of all your descendants throughout your generations approaches the holy things, which the people of Israel dedicate to the LORD, while he has an uncleanness, that person shall be cut off from my presence."
We often get down on the priest and the Levite in Jesus' good Samaritan story for walking by the seemingly dead person on the road. But I think it's important to remember that the priest and the Levite had good reasons. They weren't just being mean or selfish when they walked by, they were actually following the Law of God. They were obeying God's commandment that told them that if they touched a dead body, they would be unclean, and if they went before God unclean, if they carried out their religious duties while they were impure, then they would be cut off from God's presence. That's pretty serious, when you think about it, especially for a priest. So it makes sense to me that the priest wasn't willing to risk banishment from God's presence for a man who was probably already dead; it makes sense that the priest would want to behave conservatively and with care. Why take that kind of risk?
Not that the Samaritan wasn't facing the same risks. It's unlikely that he was a priest, and he certainly wouldn't have been a Levite, but Samaritans followed the same Laws as the Jews, and touching a dead body would still have made him unclean. Plus, Samaritans and Jews were never the best neighbours - they were more like religious enemies - the Jews thought the Samaritans ought to worship God at the temple in Jerusalem, and the Samaritans thought the Jews ought to worship God at the temple in Gerizim. So in addition to having the same Law about not touching dead people, the Samaritan had the added risk that the person lying there on the road in front of him was also a religious enemy.
Now, that's just to start. Once the Samaritan did decide to help the seemingly dead Jewish traveller, there were other risks that he would have to contend with. The first is that the chance of the Samaritan being repaid or even thanked for his help were pretty slim. In fact, it was highly likely that he would be on the receiving end of some pretty nasty words from the man whose life he was saving. Jews didn't worship with Samaritans, didn't touch Samaritans, and really didn't even talk to Samaritans. Once this Jew realized that he had been touched by a Samaritan, he would probably have wished that he had been left to die by the side of the road. So thanks and repayment were pretty much out of the question.
And there was the risk of the Samaritan being rejected by his own people. Even though later on, Samaria came to be a very multicultural place, at this point in time, our good Samaritan's friends could very well decide that after touching a Jew, he was too unclean, too low-brow to spend time with. In helping the man on the side of the road, in helping his neighbour, the Samaritan would be - at the very least - breaking one of God's Laws, but also probably risking his money, which he would never get back, and his future in the Samaritan community.
You, as a congregation, are in the same position as the Samaritan. You are being called to risk what you have in order to help your neighbour. Now, you may not think you're in any position to risk anything or to help anybody. The church is running out of money, the savings are pretty much gone, you've cut everything from the budget that there is to cut, and then some. It's pretty difficult to help with anything, especially if it doesn't result in some kind of return. If there's no compensation, then there's pretty much nothing you can do. Not that you're all about money, but, as they say, it's one of those bottom line things. And it's not just money you need to be conservative about, it's people, too. The membership here is dwindling, and those who stay are naturally getting older, and less able to work on Council or committees, the things that keep the church going. There's no way that this congregation can afford to engage in any kind of risky, radical behaviour that might alienate existing members. There's no way you can help your neighbour if it's going to mean, at the very least, breaking any of God's Laws, but also if it's going to upset the already precarious status quo or jeopardize the community.
So with all the risks involved, with the Samaritan's future in the community, and with his relationship with God at stake, why did the Samaritan reach out to the man on the side of the road? Well, interestingly enough, although God does command the followers of Torah not to touch dead people, there is a Law in Leviticus that precedes and seems to override that. Leviticus Chapter 19, Verse 18 tells us, as the lawyer in our Gospel story reminded Jesus, that "you shall love your neighbour as yourself." The lawyer, actually, goes a step farther by connecting love of neighbour with love of God - "you shall love the Lord your God... and your neighbour as yourself." Not only is loving your neighbour actually a Law of God, it's directly connected to your love of God. And for Jesus, it's the trump Law - it's the Law that overrides every other Law.
The Samaritan, who was moved by compassion, as the text says, obviously saw it that way. It may be because in the past, Samaritans were quite gracious in helping Israelites. In 2 Chronicles, we hear about two hundred thousand people of the tribe of Judah who needed help after being taken hostage in a war, and it was the Samaritans who, in the name of the Lord, clothed and fed them, put oil on their wounds, and then put the weak on donkeys and brought them to Jericho where they could get proper help. So our good Samaritan may have known his history and wanted to carry on the tradition. We don't know. All the text tells us is that he was moved by compassion, by pity and mercy. He believed that the grace of God, that the love of God for the helpless, embodied in the commandment to love your neighbour as yourself, overcame any other Law that was set before him, and like his ancestors before him, he clothed the dying man, poured oil on his wounds, put him on his donkey and brought him to a place to be cared for and fed. He risked losing his finances and his community - everything, in fact - in order to help his neighbour
So what specific risky behaviour is this congregation being called to engage in? Well, I don't know who specifically will come to the door of this church needing help. But I do know that you have certain gifts that you can risk in order to help your neighbour. The first gift is a gift of physical shelter. One of the particular gifts this congregation has is the parsonage, and the time may come when you can help someone with this gift. You might risk the parsonage by offering it as low-rent housing to a family in need, or as temporary shelter to refugees, or abuse victims, or homeless teens. Yes, these people don't enjoy reputations as good tenants, and yes, there's the risk that they wouldn't treat the property very well, or give you a good return in rent, but helping our neighbour never comes with a guarantee of repayment.
As limited as the church resources are, you might consider risking the church finance and increasing your benevolence to Synod, or to Canadian Lutheran World Relief, or to Campus Ministry. Yes, it would probably break your budget, but again, we are called to help our neighbour, not protect our bottom line. If the Samaritan had been concerned about his money, he certainly wouldn't have paid for the almost dead man to spend two more days in the inn. "Love your neighbour as yourself," says the lawyer, not "love your money as yourself."
Another radical risk that you could take could be with your gift of hospitality. You are an extremely loving and welcoming congregation. You are open to diversity and you embrace strangers who come in the door. Can you be risky enough with your gift of hospitality that you will welcome absolutely everybody? Not just the poor, not just the sick, not just people from different ethnic backgrounds, but also people who have previously been shut out of churches? Can you risk this congregation, and the disapproval of other Christian communities, by welcoming gays and lesbians into your midst? Can you be a Samaritan to the Jew in this respect?
Ultimately, whatever risks you choose to take for your neighbour, you will not be alone. Your greatest model, beyond even the good Samaritan, comes from God almighty. The simple act of God bestowing grace on us is the most risky behaviour ever. We know that God is bestowing grace and forgiveness of sins on a bunch of sinners who are completely unworthy of the gift. We know that in doing so, God is risking that we will abuse God's gift, or flat out ignore it, or waste it by sinning some more, counting on forgiveness to come. We know that despite the wonderful gift God has given us, we are going to make God look bad by not living up to that gift, we know that our irresponsibility as Christians and our flagrant abuse of God's grace makes Jesus' death meaningless. We know all this, and more importantly, God knows this. But God, risking everything, risking forgiveness, risking grace, risking unreturned love, and risking the only beloved Son in death on the cross, has sent Jesus anyway. The book of Romans lays it out crystal clear: "While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly... God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us....[and] while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son." God risked God's son on the weak, on the ungodly, on the sinners, on God's enemies. God risked everything on you.
So it's only a small thing for this congregation to risk everything on those who are in need. It's only a small thing for this congregation to follow God's ultimate commandment to "love your neighbour as yourself." Not only because God commands it, but because, in Christ, with Christ we have seen God demonstrate it. We have seen God risk everything, and lose his Son, for us. And so we know that because of that, as the second reading says, your hope is in the Gospel, in the good news of grace and forgiveness risked on you through Christ.
So, as you go forward today as a congregation, as you seek the path that God has laid for you, as you take risks for the neighbours who need your help, as Paul says in his letters to the Colossians, I say to you, "May you be strengthened with all power, according to God's glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified [you] to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. God has delivered [you] from the dominion of darkness and transferred [you] to the kingdom of God's beloved Son, in whom [you] have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." You can risk everything, as God has risked it for you. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Risky Behaviour
Col 1:1-14
Luke 10:25-37
I want to start by reading you something from Leviticus 21 and 22. "And the LORD said to Moses, "Speak to the priests, the sons of Aaron, and say to them that none of them shall defile himself for the dead among his people... If any one of all your descendants throughout your generations approaches the holy things, which the people of Israel dedicate to the LORD, while he has an uncleanness, that person shall be cut off from my presence."
We often get down on the priest and the Levite in Jesus' good Samaritan story for walking by the seemingly dead person on the road. But I think it's important to remember that the priest and the Levite had good reasons. They weren't just being mean or selfish when they walked by, they were actually following the Law of God. They were obeying God's commandment that told them that if they touched a dead body, they would be unclean, and if they went before God unclean, if they carried out their religious duties while they were impure, then they would be cut off from God's presence. That's pretty serious, when you think about it, especially for a priest. So it makes sense to me that the priest wasn't willing to risk banishment from God's presence for a man who was probably already dead; it makes sense that the priest would want to behave conservatively and with care. Why take that kind of risk?
Not that the Samaritan wasn't facing the same risks. It's unlikely that he was a priest, and he certainly wouldn't have been a Levite, but Samaritans followed the same Laws as the Jews, and touching a dead body would still have made him unclean. Plus, Samaritans and Jews were never the best neighbours - they were more like religious enemies - the Jews thought the Samaritans ought to worship God at the temple in Jerusalem, and the Samaritans thought the Jews ought to worship God at the temple in Gerizim. So in addition to having the same Law about not touching dead people, the Samaritan had the added risk that the person lying there on the road in front of him was also a religious enemy.
Now, that's just to start. Once the Samaritan did decide to help the seemingly dead Jewish traveller, there were other risks that he would have to contend with. The first is that the chance of the Samaritan being repaid or even thanked for his help were pretty slim. In fact, it was highly likely that he would be on the receiving end of some pretty nasty words from the man whose life he was saving. Jews didn't worship with Samaritans, didn't touch Samaritans, and really didn't even talk to Samaritans. Once this Jew realized that he had been touched by a Samaritan, he would probably have wished that he had been left to die by the side of the road. So thanks and repayment were pretty much out of the question.
And there was the risk of the Samaritan being rejected by his own people. Even though later on, Samaria came to be a very multicultural place, at this point in time, our good Samaritan's friends could very well decide that after touching a Jew, he was too unclean, too low-brow to spend time with. In helping the man on the side of the road, in helping his neighbour, the Samaritan would be - at the very least - breaking one of God's Laws, but also probably risking his money, which he would never get back, and his future in the Samaritan community.
You, as a congregation, are in the same position as the Samaritan. You are being called to risk what you have in order to help your neighbour. Now, you may not think you're in any position to risk anything or to help anybody. The church is running out of money, the savings are pretty much gone, you've cut everything from the budget that there is to cut, and then some. It's pretty difficult to help with anything, especially if it doesn't result in some kind of return. If there's no compensation, then there's pretty much nothing you can do. Not that you're all about money, but, as they say, it's one of those bottom line things. And it's not just money you need to be conservative about, it's people, too. The membership here is dwindling, and those who stay are naturally getting older, and less able to work on Council or committees, the things that keep the church going. There's no way that this congregation can afford to engage in any kind of risky, radical behaviour that might alienate existing members. There's no way you can help your neighbour if it's going to mean, at the very least, breaking any of God's Laws, but also if it's going to upset the already precarious status quo or jeopardize the community.
So with all the risks involved, with the Samaritan's future in the community, and with his relationship with God at stake, why did the Samaritan reach out to the man on the side of the road? Well, interestingly enough, although God does command the followers of Torah not to touch dead people, there is a Law in Leviticus that precedes and seems to override that. Leviticus Chapter 19, Verse 18 tells us, as the lawyer in our Gospel story reminded Jesus, that "you shall love your neighbour as yourself." The lawyer, actually, goes a step farther by connecting love of neighbour with love of God - "you shall love the Lord your God... and your neighbour as yourself." Not only is loving your neighbour actually a Law of God, it's directly connected to your love of God. And for Jesus, it's the trump Law - it's the Law that overrides every other Law.
The Samaritan, who was moved by compassion, as the text says, obviously saw it that way. It may be because in the past, Samaritans were quite gracious in helping Israelites. In 2 Chronicles, we hear about two hundred thousand people of the tribe of Judah who needed help after being taken hostage in a war, and it was the Samaritans who, in the name of the Lord, clothed and fed them, put oil on their wounds, and then put the weak on donkeys and brought them to Jericho where they could get proper help. So our good Samaritan may have known his history and wanted to carry on the tradition. We don't know. All the text tells us is that he was moved by compassion, by pity and mercy. He believed that the grace of God, that the love of God for the helpless, embodied in the commandment to love your neighbour as yourself, overcame any other Law that was set before him, and like his ancestors before him, he clothed the dying man, poured oil on his wounds, put him on his donkey and brought him to a place to be cared for and fed. He risked losing his finances and his community - everything, in fact - in order to help his neighbour
So what specific risky behaviour is this congregation being called to engage in? Well, I don't know who specifically will come to the door of this church needing help. But I do know that you have certain gifts that you can risk in order to help your neighbour. The first gift is a gift of physical shelter. One of the particular gifts this congregation has is the parsonage, and the time may come when you can help someone with this gift. You might risk the parsonage by offering it as low-rent housing to a family in need, or as temporary shelter to refugees, or abuse victims, or homeless teens. Yes, these people don't enjoy reputations as good tenants, and yes, there's the risk that they wouldn't treat the property very well, or give you a good return in rent, but helping our neighbour never comes with a guarantee of repayment.
As limited as the church resources are, you might consider risking the church finance and increasing your benevolence to Synod, or to Canadian Lutheran World Relief, or to Campus Ministry. Yes, it would probably break your budget, but again, we are called to help our neighbour, not protect our bottom line. If the Samaritan had been concerned about his money, he certainly wouldn't have paid for the almost dead man to spend two more days in the inn. "Love your neighbour as yourself," says the lawyer, not "love your money as yourself."
Another radical risk that you could take could be with your gift of hospitality. You are an extremely loving and welcoming congregation. You are open to diversity and you embrace strangers who come in the door. Can you be risky enough with your gift of hospitality that you will welcome absolutely everybody? Not just the poor, not just the sick, not just people from different ethnic backgrounds, but also people who have previously been shut out of churches? Can you risk this congregation, and the disapproval of other Christian communities, by welcoming gays and lesbians into your midst? Can you be a Samaritan to the Jew in this respect?
Ultimately, whatever risks you choose to take for your neighbour, you will not be alone. Your greatest model, beyond even the good Samaritan, comes from God almighty. The simple act of God bestowing grace on us is the most risky behaviour ever. We know that God is bestowing grace and forgiveness of sins on a bunch of sinners who are completely unworthy of the gift. We know that in doing so, God is risking that we will abuse God's gift, or flat out ignore it, or waste it by sinning some more, counting on forgiveness to come. We know that despite the wonderful gift God has given us, we are going to make God look bad by not living up to that gift, we know that our irresponsibility as Christians and our flagrant abuse of God's grace makes Jesus' death meaningless. We know all this, and more importantly, God knows this. But God, risking everything, risking forgiveness, risking grace, risking unreturned love, and risking the only beloved Son in death on the cross, has sent Jesus anyway. The book of Romans lays it out crystal clear: "While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly... God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us....[and] while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son." God risked God's son on the weak, on the ungodly, on the sinners, on God's enemies. God risked everything on you.
So it's only a small thing for this congregation to risk everything on those who are in need. It's only a small thing for this congregation to follow God's ultimate commandment to "love your neighbour as yourself." Not only because God commands it, but because, in Christ, with Christ we have seen God demonstrate it. We have seen God risk everything, and lose his Son, for us. And so we know that because of that, as the second reading says, your hope is in the Gospel, in the good news of grace and forgiveness risked on you through Christ.
So, as you go forward today as a congregation, as you seek the path that God has laid for you, as you take risks for the neighbours who need your help, as Paul says in his letters to the Colossians, I say to you, "May you be strengthened with all power, according to God's glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified [you] to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. God has delivered [you] from the dominion of darkness and transferred [you] to the kingdom of God's beloved Son, in whom [you] have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." You can risk everything, as God has risked it for you. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Luke 10:25-37
I want to start by reading you something from Leviticus 21 and 22. "And the LORD said to Moses, "Speak to the priests, the sons of Aaron, and say to them that none of them shall defile himself for the dead among his people... If any one of all your descendants throughout your generations approaches the holy things, which the people of Israel dedicate to the LORD, while he has an uncleanness, that person shall be cut off from my presence."
We often get down on the priest and the Levite in Jesus' good Samaritan story for walking by the seemingly dead person on the road. But I think it's important to remember that the priest and the Levite had good reasons. They weren't just being mean or selfish when they walked by, they were actually following the Law of God. They were obeying God's commandment that told them that if they touched a dead body, they would be unclean, and if they went before God unclean, if they carried out their religious duties while they were impure, then they would be cut off from God's presence. That's pretty serious, when you think about it, especially for a priest. So it makes sense to me that the priest wasn't willing to risk banishment from God's presence for a man who was probably already dead; it makes sense that the priest would want to behave conservatively and with care. Why take that kind of risk?
Not that the Samaritan wasn't facing the same risks. It's unlikely that he was a priest, and he certainly wouldn't have been a Levite, but Samaritans followed the same Laws as the Jews, and touching a dead body would still have made him unclean. Plus, Samaritans and Jews were never the best neighbours - they were more like religious enemies - the Jews thought the Samaritans ought to worship God at the temple in Jerusalem, and the Samaritans thought the Jews ought to worship God at the temple in Gerizim. So in addition to having the same Law about not touching dead people, the Samaritan had the added risk that the person lying there on the road in front of him was also a religious enemy.
Now, that's just to start. Once the Samaritan did decide to help the seemingly dead Jewish traveller, there were other risks that he would have to contend with. The first is that the chance of the Samaritan being repaid or even thanked for his help were pretty slim. In fact, it was highly likely that he would be on the receiving end of some pretty nasty words from the man whose life he was saving. Jews didn't worship with Samaritans, didn't touch Samaritans, and really didn't even talk to Samaritans. Once this Jew realized that he had been touched by a Samaritan, he would probably have wished that he had been left to die by the side of the road. So thanks and repayment were pretty much out of the question.
And there was the risk of the Samaritan being rejected by his own people. Even though later on, Samaria came to be a very multicultural place, at this point in time, our good Samaritan's friends could very well decide that after touching a Jew, he was too unclean, too low-brow to spend time with. In helping the man on the side of the road, in helping his neighbour, the Samaritan would be - at the very least - breaking one of God's Laws, but also probably risking his money, which he would never get back, and his future in the Samaritan community.
You, as a congregation, are in the same position as the Samaritan. You are being called to risk what you have in order to help your neighbour. Now, you may not think you're in any position to risk anything or to help anybody. The church is running out of money, the savings are pretty much gone, you've cut everything from the budget that there is to cut, and then some. It's pretty difficult to help with anything, especially if it doesn't result in some kind of return. If there's no compensation, then there's pretty much nothing you can do. Not that you're all about money, but, as they say, it's one of those bottom line things. And it's not just money you need to be conservative about, it's people, too. The membership here is dwindling, and those who stay are naturally getting older, and less able to work on Council or committees, the things that keep the church going. There's no way that this congregation can afford to engage in any kind of risky, radical behaviour that might alienate existing members. There's no way you can help your neighbour if it's going to mean, at the very least, breaking any of God's Laws, but also if it's going to upset the already precarious status quo or jeopardize the community.
So with all the risks involved, with the Samaritan's future in the community, and with his relationship with God at stake, why did the Samaritan reach out to the man on the side of the road? Well, interestingly enough, although God does command the followers of Torah not to touch dead people, there is a Law in Leviticus that precedes and seems to override that. Leviticus Chapter 19, Verse 18 tells us, as the lawyer in our Gospel story reminded Jesus, that "you shall love your neighbour as yourself." The lawyer, actually, goes a step farther by connecting love of neighbour with love of God - "you shall love the Lord your God... and your neighbour as yourself." Not only is loving your neighbour actually a Law of God, it's directly connected to your love of God. And for Jesus, it's the trump Law - it's the Law that overrides every other Law.
The Samaritan, who was moved by compassion, as the text says, obviously saw it that way. It may be because in the past, Samaritans were quite gracious in helping Israelites. In 2 Chronicles, we hear about two hundred thousand people of the tribe of Judah who needed help after being taken hostage in a war, and it was the Samaritans who, in the name of the Lord, clothed and fed them, put oil on their wounds, and then put the weak on donkeys and brought them to Jericho where they could get proper help. So our good Samaritan may have known his history and wanted to carry on the tradition. We don't know. All the text tells us is that he was moved by compassion, by pity and mercy. He believed that the grace of God, that the love of God for the helpless, embodied in the commandment to love your neighbour as yourself, overcame any other Law that was set before him, and like his ancestors before him, he clothed the dying man, poured oil on his wounds, put him on his donkey and brought him to a place to be cared for and fed. He risked losing his finances and his community - everything, in fact - in order to help his neighbour
So what specific risky behaviour is this congregation being called to engage in? Well, I don't know who specifically will come to the door of this church needing help. But I do know that you have certain gifts that you can risk in order to help your neighbour. The first gift is a gift of physical shelter. One of the particular gifts this congregation has is the parsonage, and the time may come when you can help someone with this gift. You might risk the parsonage by offering it as low-rent housing to a family in need, or as temporary shelter to refugees, or abuse victims, or homeless teens. Yes, these people don't enjoy reputations as good tenants, and yes, there's the risk that they wouldn't treat the property very well, or give you a good return in rent, but helping our neighbour never comes with a guarantee of repayment.
As limited as the church resources are, you might consider risking the church finance and increasing your benevolence to Synod, or to Canadian Lutheran World Relief, or to Campus Ministry. Yes, it would probably break your budget, but again, we are called to help our neighbour, not protect our bottom line. If the Samaritan had been concerned about his money, he certainly wouldn't have paid for the almost dead man to spend two more days in the inn. "Love your neighbour as yourself," says the lawyer, not "love your money as yourself."
Another radical risk that you could take could be with your gift of hospitality. You are an extremely loving and welcoming congregation. You are open to diversity and you embrace strangers who come in the door. Can you be risky enough with your gift of hospitality that you will welcome absolutely everybody? Not just the poor, not just the sick, not just people from different ethnic backgrounds, but also people who have previously been shut out of churches? Can you risk this congregation, and the disapproval of other Christian communities, by welcoming gays and lesbians into your midst? Can you be a Samaritan to the Jew in this respect?
Ultimately, whatever risks you choose to take for your neighbour, you will not be alone. Your greatest model, beyond even the good Samaritan, comes from God almighty. The simple act of God bestowing grace on us is the most risky behaviour ever. We know that God is bestowing grace and forgiveness of sins on a bunch of sinners who are completely unworthy of the gift. We know that in doing so, God is risking that we will abuse God's gift, or flat out ignore it, or waste it by sinning some more, counting on forgiveness to come. We know that despite the wonderful gift God has given us, we are going to make God look bad by not living up to that gift, we know that our irresponsibility as Christians and our flagrant abuse of God's grace makes Jesus' death meaningless. We know all this, and more importantly, God knows this. But God, risking everything, risking forgiveness, risking grace, risking unreturned love, and risking the only beloved Son in death on the cross, has sent Jesus anyway. The book of Romans lays it out crystal clear: "While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly... God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us....[and] while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son." God risked God's son on the weak, on the ungodly, on the sinners, on God's enemies. God risked everything on you.
So it's only a small thing for this congregation to risk everything on those who are in need. It's only a small thing for this congregation to follow God's ultimate commandment to "love your neighbour as yourself." Not only because God commands it, but because, in Christ, with Christ we have seen God demonstrate it. We have seen God risk everything, and lose his Son, for us. And so we know that because of that, as the second reading says, your hope is in the Gospel, in the good news of grace and forgiveness risked on you through Christ.
So, as you go forward today as a congregation, as you seek the path that God has laid for you, as you take risks for the neighbours who need your help, as Paul says in his letters to the Colossians, I say to you, "May you be strengthened with all power, according to God's glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified [you] to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. God has delivered [you] from the dominion of darkness and transferred [you] to the kingdom of God's beloved Son, in whom [you] have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." You can risk everything, as God has risked it for you. Thanks be to God. Amen.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Sunday, July 8, 2007 - Confirmation Sunday
Luke 10:1-11, 16-20
Well, the three of you may be sitting there breathing a sigh of relief now. I bet you're thinking that when today's service is over, you won't ever have to come to church again. You can sleep in on Sunday mornings, make plans that start before noon, hit the internet for some Sunday-morning surfing, basically do anything BUT come sit in a pew for an hour at 10 in the morning.
And you know what, you're right. You don't have to come to church anymore. In fact, our Gospel lesson for today seems to be saying that you shouldn't. You should actually be going out, not staying in. Well, that's what Jesus told his followers to do. That is, when the time came, Jesus sent his followers to go out into the world, he didn't want them staying in.
That's the goal of baptism, and confirmation, too. In baptism, God wipes out all our past mistakes, promises to be with us forever, comes to live in our hearts so that the promise comes true, and then finishes the whole thing off by telling us to get off our butts and go out into the world. When Jesus was baptized, the first thing that happened was that he was sent out into the desert, and from there to go into the rest of Israel. When Jesus appointed seventy disciples in our Gospel reading this morning, he did so for the express purpose of sending them out. He didn't want them hanging around their hometowns, going to synagogue and just sitting there. He wanted them to get out there, to go where the action was, to bring Jesus' message to the happenin' places. Being a Christian doesn't mean we're supposed to sit at home in front of the TV or computer, or hide away in church on a Sunday morning thinking that's all we have to do. Being a Christian means going out and representing Christ in the world. And so we're sent out.
So what is it, exactly, we're supposed to do when we're out? Well, Jesus tells his followers some very specific things.
The first thing he tells them, which we should also take to apply to us, is to speak words of peace. "Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!'" Shalom is the word in Hebrew, salaam in Arabic. "Yo, peace!" you might say to your friends when you meet them in the halls. These are important words, because this world is sure in serious need of peace. You know better than I do the kind of violence that happens in school, and in people's homes, and on the streets, and Jesus is asking us to go out there and, if we can't stop the violence, at least not contribute to it. Bringing peace to the world means convincing our friends not to get into fights, it means walking away from arguments, it means letting other people have the last word, even if that means people don't respect us as much. And the really important thing, and probably the most difficult, is that when Jesus says we should speak words of peace, he especially means we should be speaking words of peace to the people we're feeling the least peaceful about. To our enemies. Jesus wants you to speak words of peace - to be a peaceful influence- in your home with your brothers or sisters who annoy you, with your parents who are always telling you what to do. Jesus wants you to go out into the world and bring peace to the kids at school who hate you, to bring peace to the teachers who are making your life impossible. Bring peace, speak peace, be peace.
The next thing Jesus tells his disciples to do when he sends them out is kind of strange. He says, "Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you." So, what, does that mean that you always have to eat brussels sprouts if they're served to you? Well, yes, actually. We live in a country and during a time when we can have just about anything we want, especially when it comes to food. I was at a buffet dinner last night, and for dessert, they had six different kinds of cakes! Six! The majority of people in this world don't even get three meals a day, let alone six different kinds of cake. So Jesus is telling us here to be happy with what we're given. Not to ask for more, or for something else that we like better, but to make do with what's put in front of us. It's called sustainable living, being good caretakers of God's earth.
"Cure the sick," is the next thing Jesus says. Get ready to go to medical school! No, I'm kidding. It would be great to have more doctors and nurses, but the sick need more than just physical healing. They need emotional and spiritual healing, too. And you can provide that by spending time with them, by listening to them, and by praying with and for them, by telling them that they are forgiven. No matter how old or young you are, that is a real, concrete, valuable way to bring Jesus' message to the world. Remember what you learned in confirmation class - God is on the side of the loser, the underdog, the weak, the sick, and Jesus is sending you out to tell that to people. And to show that you're on the same side.
So, that's three big things Jesus is sending us out to do. Bring peace. Be happy with what you have. Cure the sick. Sounds simple enough until you realize that Jesus is sending us out, as he describes it, "like lambs into the midst of wolves." Jesus is actually sending us out to bring peace to a world that lives off of violence. Jesus is sending us out to be happy with less in a world that respects you the more you have. Jesus is sending us out to cure the sick in a world that shuns people who are less than perfect, and in need of help.
On the other hand, the disciples were sent out into the same conditions. We live in a world where thug rappers praise the power of the gun; the disciples lived in a world where Roman soldiers put a spear through you if they didn't like the way you looked. In either case, speaking words of peace is dangerous. We live in a world where the more you have, the more respected you are; the disciples lived in a world where the rich had rights and privileges and the poor had nothing. Again, in both cases, being content with less when you could have more was a sign of foolishness and even stupidity. We live in a world where the sick are isolated and we're deathly afraid of contamination - remember SARS?; the disciples lived in a world where the sick could contaminate people not only with their disease, but with their sin as well. Being with the sick, in either case, means being shunned by everyone else. So, really, when you think about it, Jesus is sending us out into the same hostile, unwelcome conditions that he sent the disciples.
But as it turns out, the seventy disciples from our gospel story did pretty well. The writer of Luke tells us that when the disciples came back, they "returned with joy, saying, "Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!"." They must have done well - even though they were sent out without any bags, or extra shoes, no money, nothing - even though they had the absolute barest minimum for their journey, they must have done well because when they came back, they came back with joy. They didn't come back sore, or tired, or disillusioned. They didn't come back beaten up or defeated. They came back with joy, and told Jesus that they were so successful they had the demons on the run.
And they did it because of Jesus. The name of Jesus was what gave them the courage to speak peace, the ability to live on less, the power to heal the sick. Jesus said as much to them. "I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you." I have given you authority over all the power of the enemy and nothing will hurt you. That's a pretty bold promise. But there it is. That's all we need to go out and speak peace, live with less, and heal the sick. The authority of Jesus, that just so happened to have been given to you in your baptism.
So, Jesus is sending you out. From the day you were baptized, he had you pointed in the direction of the door, and now, with your confirmation, he's giving you a kick in the rear. He's sending you out to face the demons of violence, of greed, of sickness. But he's sending you out with his power and his protection. He's sending you out with his Spirit - with the Holy Spirit. This is the same Spirit that allowed Jesus to love Judas, even when he betrayed him with violence. This is the same Spirit that helped Jesus to live in the desert for forty days on only bread and water. This is the same Spirit that healed the sick and comforted the cast-out. This is the same Spirit that was given to you in baptism and will be renewed in you today. And so for that reason, even though it's safer to stay home, even though it's safer to just sit in Church on Sunday morning, Jesus is sending you as "lambs into the midst of wolves," out into the world, to do his work - to speak peace, to live with less, and to heal the sick. You have been blessed with God's Spirit, and you are more than capable of carrying out Christ's mission. The Lord be with you as you go out. Amen.
Well, the three of you may be sitting there breathing a sigh of relief now. I bet you're thinking that when today's service is over, you won't ever have to come to church again. You can sleep in on Sunday mornings, make plans that start before noon, hit the internet for some Sunday-morning surfing, basically do anything BUT come sit in a pew for an hour at 10 in the morning.
And you know what, you're right. You don't have to come to church anymore. In fact, our Gospel lesson for today seems to be saying that you shouldn't. You should actually be going out, not staying in. Well, that's what Jesus told his followers to do. That is, when the time came, Jesus sent his followers to go out into the world, he didn't want them staying in.
That's the goal of baptism, and confirmation, too. In baptism, God wipes out all our past mistakes, promises to be with us forever, comes to live in our hearts so that the promise comes true, and then finishes the whole thing off by telling us to get off our butts and go out into the world. When Jesus was baptized, the first thing that happened was that he was sent out into the desert, and from there to go into the rest of Israel. When Jesus appointed seventy disciples in our Gospel reading this morning, he did so for the express purpose of sending them out. He didn't want them hanging around their hometowns, going to synagogue and just sitting there. He wanted them to get out there, to go where the action was, to bring Jesus' message to the happenin' places. Being a Christian doesn't mean we're supposed to sit at home in front of the TV or computer, or hide away in church on a Sunday morning thinking that's all we have to do. Being a Christian means going out and representing Christ in the world. And so we're sent out.
So what is it, exactly, we're supposed to do when we're out? Well, Jesus tells his followers some very specific things.
The first thing he tells them, which we should also take to apply to us, is to speak words of peace. "Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!'" Shalom is the word in Hebrew, salaam in Arabic. "Yo, peace!" you might say to your friends when you meet them in the halls. These are important words, because this world is sure in serious need of peace. You know better than I do the kind of violence that happens in school, and in people's homes, and on the streets, and Jesus is asking us to go out there and, if we can't stop the violence, at least not contribute to it. Bringing peace to the world means convincing our friends not to get into fights, it means walking away from arguments, it means letting other people have the last word, even if that means people don't respect us as much. And the really important thing, and probably the most difficult, is that when Jesus says we should speak words of peace, he especially means we should be speaking words of peace to the people we're feeling the least peaceful about. To our enemies. Jesus wants you to speak words of peace - to be a peaceful influence- in your home with your brothers or sisters who annoy you, with your parents who are always telling you what to do. Jesus wants you to go out into the world and bring peace to the kids at school who hate you, to bring peace to the teachers who are making your life impossible. Bring peace, speak peace, be peace.
The next thing Jesus tells his disciples to do when he sends them out is kind of strange. He says, "Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you." So, what, does that mean that you always have to eat brussels sprouts if they're served to you? Well, yes, actually. We live in a country and during a time when we can have just about anything we want, especially when it comes to food. I was at a buffet dinner last night, and for dessert, they had six different kinds of cakes! Six! The majority of people in this world don't even get three meals a day, let alone six different kinds of cake. So Jesus is telling us here to be happy with what we're given. Not to ask for more, or for something else that we like better, but to make do with what's put in front of us. It's called sustainable living, being good caretakers of God's earth.
"Cure the sick," is the next thing Jesus says. Get ready to go to medical school! No, I'm kidding. It would be great to have more doctors and nurses, but the sick need more than just physical healing. They need emotional and spiritual healing, too. And you can provide that by spending time with them, by listening to them, and by praying with and for them, by telling them that they are forgiven. No matter how old or young you are, that is a real, concrete, valuable way to bring Jesus' message to the world. Remember what you learned in confirmation class - God is on the side of the loser, the underdog, the weak, the sick, and Jesus is sending you out to tell that to people. And to show that you're on the same side.
So, that's three big things Jesus is sending us out to do. Bring peace. Be happy with what you have. Cure the sick. Sounds simple enough until you realize that Jesus is sending us out, as he describes it, "like lambs into the midst of wolves." Jesus is actually sending us out to bring peace to a world that lives off of violence. Jesus is sending us out to be happy with less in a world that respects you the more you have. Jesus is sending us out to cure the sick in a world that shuns people who are less than perfect, and in need of help.
On the other hand, the disciples were sent out into the same conditions. We live in a world where thug rappers praise the power of the gun; the disciples lived in a world where Roman soldiers put a spear through you if they didn't like the way you looked. In either case, speaking words of peace is dangerous. We live in a world where the more you have, the more respected you are; the disciples lived in a world where the rich had rights and privileges and the poor had nothing. Again, in both cases, being content with less when you could have more was a sign of foolishness and even stupidity. We live in a world where the sick are isolated and we're deathly afraid of contamination - remember SARS?; the disciples lived in a world where the sick could contaminate people not only with their disease, but with their sin as well. Being with the sick, in either case, means being shunned by everyone else. So, really, when you think about it, Jesus is sending us out into the same hostile, unwelcome conditions that he sent the disciples.
But as it turns out, the seventy disciples from our gospel story did pretty well. The writer of Luke tells us that when the disciples came back, they "returned with joy, saying, "Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!"." They must have done well - even though they were sent out without any bags, or extra shoes, no money, nothing - even though they had the absolute barest minimum for their journey, they must have done well because when they came back, they came back with joy. They didn't come back sore, or tired, or disillusioned. They didn't come back beaten up or defeated. They came back with joy, and told Jesus that they were so successful they had the demons on the run.
And they did it because of Jesus. The name of Jesus was what gave them the courage to speak peace, the ability to live on less, the power to heal the sick. Jesus said as much to them. "I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you." I have given you authority over all the power of the enemy and nothing will hurt you. That's a pretty bold promise. But there it is. That's all we need to go out and speak peace, live with less, and heal the sick. The authority of Jesus, that just so happened to have been given to you in your baptism.
So, Jesus is sending you out. From the day you were baptized, he had you pointed in the direction of the door, and now, with your confirmation, he's giving you a kick in the rear. He's sending you out to face the demons of violence, of greed, of sickness. But he's sending you out with his power and his protection. He's sending you out with his Spirit - with the Holy Spirit. This is the same Spirit that allowed Jesus to love Judas, even when he betrayed him with violence. This is the same Spirit that helped Jesus to live in the desert for forty days on only bread and water. This is the same Spirit that healed the sick and comforted the cast-out. This is the same Spirit that was given to you in baptism and will be renewed in you today. And so for that reason, even though it's safer to stay home, even though it's safer to just sit in Church on Sunday morning, Jesus is sending you as "lambs into the midst of wolves," out into the world, to do his work - to speak peace, to live with less, and to heal the sick. You have been blessed with God's Spirit, and you are more than capable of carrying out Christ's mission. The Lord be with you as you go out. Amen.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Who's Your Boss? - July 1, 2007
1 Kings 19:15-16, 19-21
Psalm 16
Gal 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62
Wouldn't it be great to have a boss who let you do whatever you wanted? A boss who promised you when you signed on that the work would be easy and fun? And wouldn't it be great to have a boss who would never fire you? You could sleep in, go to work as late as you wanted, slack off while you're there, take long lunch breaks, leave early to go home, and you know you'd always have the job. You could bring your friends to work if you wanted, yell at the co-workers or customers who annoy you, drink on the job, smoke on the job, sleep on the job. And the boss wouldn't blink an eye - in fact, the more you did, the more the boss liked you. Sounds like a great boss to have, eh?
Just imagine a boss who didn't have rules or regulations, didn't impose any code of behaviour or even have a code of ethics. Imagine a boss who let you sleep around with your co- workers, cheat on your spouse, start fights, lose your temper, get drunk, party all night, and it's all fine. In fact, imagine if all those things were part of the job - if they were on the "responsibilities" listing in your job description. Imagine if doing all these things is why the boss hired you in the first place.
Strange as it may sound, there actually is a boss like that. In fact, this particular boss took us on as workers right from the beginning, and has always had us working under these conditions. He's hired us to take it easy and have fun, and he won't ever fire us, no matter how badly we mess things up. So who is this boss? Who is this employer who sounds like such a fun, laid-back person to work for? Well, he's almost always been around. He hired Adam and Eve straight from the garden, he gave Cain employee-of-the-year award. He tried to get Jesus to come on board out in the desert once, and sometimes it seems like he's running the show here on earth. The devil, Satan, the Great Deceiver, whatever you want to call him, that's our boss, our slavemaster, the one who's hired us to do all this easy work.
Of course, since our boss is the devil, there must be some kind of catch, right? It can't possibly be as good as it sounds, can it? You betcha! Since this is the devil, it's as bad as it sounds. The first catch is that even though the work is easy, the pay isn't very good. In fact, rather than our boss paying us, we actually end up paying our boss for the "privilege" of doing our work. Now, to be fair, we don't have to pay until our last day, so we can live it up until then, but every day the charges rack up and you can bet that the interest rates are worse than a credit card company's. At the end of our career with the devil, what we owe is too much to be calculated. "The wages of sin is death," goes the quote from Romans. What we have to pay for the work we do ends up being our life.
And don't think you can get out of it by leaving. I said that we'll never get fired, but the truth is that we can't actually quit. That's the other catch - when this boss hires, it's for life - there's no getting out of this contract. Even if we don't want to do the job anymore, the devil won't let us go, and we'll still have to pay out when we leave, no matter what.
It's slavery, actually, more than employment. We're signed on the minute we're born, we work our entire life with no time off or any pay whatsoever, and we're in debt when we die. Yup, we're slaves.
Or we would be. You see, something happened one day. The devil attempted a hostile take-over. About two thousand years ago, another guy came on the scene, an up-and-comer who was trying to recruit new employees, promising cancellation of debt, telling people he could get them out of their contract. Well, the old boss decided to deal with it swiftly and decisively. If there was only one boss that would mean that everybody would have to work for him and so the boss had the new guy killed. Wiped out the competition.
Or, at least, that was the plan. Yeah, the new guy was killed, but when all the dust settled, three days later, everything was turned upside down. The new guy was back, and the old boss found himself bankrupt. Everything he had was gone, the debts that were owed to him had been cancelled, even the debts that had already been paid were written off, and all of a sudden, all of his employees, and I mean all - from Adam and Even on down - were on the new guy's payroll! It's enough to drive a business person crazy!
But it's good news for us, because since then we have a new boss. You see, when you were all baptized, your contract with the devil was made null and void and you were issued a new contract with God, with Jesus as your new manager. The pay-off that you were supposed to make when the contract ended, the wages of death, were taken care of by Jesus, and you were given a fresh start under God.
So what's our new boss like? What kind of work are we doing for him? Well, to start off, our new boss promises that our work is going to be hard and difficult. The most important thing he says is that our primary responsibility is to love our neighbours as ourselves. Now, this isn't as easy as it sounds. Loving your neighbour as yourself means taking it easy on them when they're having a bad day. It means letting them into the line in front of you. It means giving them the food you were dying all day to eat. It means letting them have the last word - every. single. time. It means letting them have the closer parking space. Loving your neighbour as yourself means being willing to pay their debts yourself.
Paul, the writer of our second reading, breaks down this responsibility into a list of things that Jesus' employees are meant to do. The fruits of the Spirit, he calls them. The list starts with love - that's the most important thing we're to do. And then there's peace. As Jesus' employees, we're to spread peace, to give peace, to be peace. That means no starting arguments, no causing divisions, no "divide and conquer." Instead, we're to seek the path of reconciliation, of healing, of unity. Which takes patience, another thing on Paul's employee list, that and faithfulness, which go together. Our work with Jesus is long-term, it's work that will take a life-time, so patience is a big one. We can't expect to see the results of our work right away - it could take years, and maybe we'll never see the results, but that shouldn't stop us.
The next thing that Paul talks about is kindness, and later on he adds gentleness, two things that are pretty self-explanatory. Generosity, too, is a hallmark of the Jesus company. I'm going to talk more about generosity in a couple of weeks, but I'll just say now that being generous as Jesus' employee means not only being generous with material things, like money and food and clothes, but also being generous with God's forgiveness and grace. Our new boss isn't looking for us to be frugal, or efficient, our new boss wants us to be wasteful with the company's resources, to throw forgiveness and grace on every person who walks in the door, to give it away as fast as we can.
Lastly, Paul lists self-control as one of the things Jesus' employees are supposed to do. Now, it may be the end of the list, but self-control is the most crucial part of working for Jesus, because without it we can't do the rest of our job. It takes self-control to love instead of hate, to speak kind words instead of getting into arguments, to be patient instead of rushing, to be generous in times of self-need. But that's the job we're hired to do.
So in case I haven't been clear enough, I'll say it straight: our boss didn't sign us up for an easy job. There's no time off, there's no thanks or overtime for the work. There's no getting out of this contract, either. This is slavery, too, although as Paul puts it, it's slavery through love. Our new boss has hired us on for life. But that's good news, actually. It means that even if you can't do the job, even if you make a mistake and slip into the work habits that you had under your old boss, your new boss forgives you, sets you on the right path again, and keeps you going. No matter how many times you do something wrong, no matter how bad you make the company look, Jesus wipes the slate clean and gives you a new start. And he doesn't let you go.
So it's still slavery, you're still life-time employees, but the big difference between your old boss and your new boss is that your new boss works for you. You new boss actually thinks os you as clients instead of employees, and shows his workers the same grace and forgiveness that he shows to everyone. Jesus doesn't just ask you to love your neighbour as yourself, but actually loves you that same way. When you are conflicted, Jesus offers you his peace. When you need some time to work things out and make a change, Jesus is patient with you, and faithful to you. When you've been treated harshly, or are just living in a harsh world, Jesus is kind and gentle to you. And generous? Jesus is so generous with God's grace and forgiveness, sharing it all with you, that it's a wonder there's any left.
This arrangement is better than a promotion, better than overtime, better than an employee rewards program. "The wages of sin is death," Paul says, "but the gift of God is eternal life." That's why we can be thankful that we've been freed from the slavery of the devil and that Jesus is our new boss. Amen.
Psalm 16
Gal 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62
Wouldn't it be great to have a boss who let you do whatever you wanted? A boss who promised you when you signed on that the work would be easy and fun? And wouldn't it be great to have a boss who would never fire you? You could sleep in, go to work as late as you wanted, slack off while you're there, take long lunch breaks, leave early to go home, and you know you'd always have the job. You could bring your friends to work if you wanted, yell at the co-workers or customers who annoy you, drink on the job, smoke on the job, sleep on the job. And the boss wouldn't blink an eye - in fact, the more you did, the more the boss liked you. Sounds like a great boss to have, eh?
Just imagine a boss who didn't have rules or regulations, didn't impose any code of behaviour or even have a code of ethics. Imagine a boss who let you sleep around with your co- workers, cheat on your spouse, start fights, lose your temper, get drunk, party all night, and it's all fine. In fact, imagine if all those things were part of the job - if they were on the "responsibilities" listing in your job description. Imagine if doing all these things is why the boss hired you in the first place.
Strange as it may sound, there actually is a boss like that. In fact, this particular boss took us on as workers right from the beginning, and has always had us working under these conditions. He's hired us to take it easy and have fun, and he won't ever fire us, no matter how badly we mess things up. So who is this boss? Who is this employer who sounds like such a fun, laid-back person to work for? Well, he's almost always been around. He hired Adam and Eve straight from the garden, he gave Cain employee-of-the-year award. He tried to get Jesus to come on board out in the desert once, and sometimes it seems like he's running the show here on earth. The devil, Satan, the Great Deceiver, whatever you want to call him, that's our boss, our slavemaster, the one who's hired us to do all this easy work.
Of course, since our boss is the devil, there must be some kind of catch, right? It can't possibly be as good as it sounds, can it? You betcha! Since this is the devil, it's as bad as it sounds. The first catch is that even though the work is easy, the pay isn't very good. In fact, rather than our boss paying us, we actually end up paying our boss for the "privilege" of doing our work. Now, to be fair, we don't have to pay until our last day, so we can live it up until then, but every day the charges rack up and you can bet that the interest rates are worse than a credit card company's. At the end of our career with the devil, what we owe is too much to be calculated. "The wages of sin is death," goes the quote from Romans. What we have to pay for the work we do ends up being our life.
And don't think you can get out of it by leaving. I said that we'll never get fired, but the truth is that we can't actually quit. That's the other catch - when this boss hires, it's for life - there's no getting out of this contract. Even if we don't want to do the job anymore, the devil won't let us go, and we'll still have to pay out when we leave, no matter what.
It's slavery, actually, more than employment. We're signed on the minute we're born, we work our entire life with no time off or any pay whatsoever, and we're in debt when we die. Yup, we're slaves.
Or we would be. You see, something happened one day. The devil attempted a hostile take-over. About two thousand years ago, another guy came on the scene, an up-and-comer who was trying to recruit new employees, promising cancellation of debt, telling people he could get them out of their contract. Well, the old boss decided to deal with it swiftly and decisively. If there was only one boss that would mean that everybody would have to work for him and so the boss had the new guy killed. Wiped out the competition.
Or, at least, that was the plan. Yeah, the new guy was killed, but when all the dust settled, three days later, everything was turned upside down. The new guy was back, and the old boss found himself bankrupt. Everything he had was gone, the debts that were owed to him had been cancelled, even the debts that had already been paid were written off, and all of a sudden, all of his employees, and I mean all - from Adam and Even on down - were on the new guy's payroll! It's enough to drive a business person crazy!
But it's good news for us, because since then we have a new boss. You see, when you were all baptized, your contract with the devil was made null and void and you were issued a new contract with God, with Jesus as your new manager. The pay-off that you were supposed to make when the contract ended, the wages of death, were taken care of by Jesus, and you were given a fresh start under God.
So what's our new boss like? What kind of work are we doing for him? Well, to start off, our new boss promises that our work is going to be hard and difficult. The most important thing he says is that our primary responsibility is to love our neighbours as ourselves. Now, this isn't as easy as it sounds. Loving your neighbour as yourself means taking it easy on them when they're having a bad day. It means letting them into the line in front of you. It means giving them the food you were dying all day to eat. It means letting them have the last word - every. single. time. It means letting them have the closer parking space. Loving your neighbour as yourself means being willing to pay their debts yourself.
Paul, the writer of our second reading, breaks down this responsibility into a list of things that Jesus' employees are meant to do. The fruits of the Spirit, he calls them. The list starts with love - that's the most important thing we're to do. And then there's peace. As Jesus' employees, we're to spread peace, to give peace, to be peace. That means no starting arguments, no causing divisions, no "divide and conquer." Instead, we're to seek the path of reconciliation, of healing, of unity. Which takes patience, another thing on Paul's employee list, that and faithfulness, which go together. Our work with Jesus is long-term, it's work that will take a life-time, so patience is a big one. We can't expect to see the results of our work right away - it could take years, and maybe we'll never see the results, but that shouldn't stop us.
The next thing that Paul talks about is kindness, and later on he adds gentleness, two things that are pretty self-explanatory. Generosity, too, is a hallmark of the Jesus company. I'm going to talk more about generosity in a couple of weeks, but I'll just say now that being generous as Jesus' employee means not only being generous with material things, like money and food and clothes, but also being generous with God's forgiveness and grace. Our new boss isn't looking for us to be frugal, or efficient, our new boss wants us to be wasteful with the company's resources, to throw forgiveness and grace on every person who walks in the door, to give it away as fast as we can.
Lastly, Paul lists self-control as one of the things Jesus' employees are supposed to do. Now, it may be the end of the list, but self-control is the most crucial part of working for Jesus, because without it we can't do the rest of our job. It takes self-control to love instead of hate, to speak kind words instead of getting into arguments, to be patient instead of rushing, to be generous in times of self-need. But that's the job we're hired to do.
So in case I haven't been clear enough, I'll say it straight: our boss didn't sign us up for an easy job. There's no time off, there's no thanks or overtime for the work. There's no getting out of this contract, either. This is slavery, too, although as Paul puts it, it's slavery through love. Our new boss has hired us on for life. But that's good news, actually. It means that even if you can't do the job, even if you make a mistake and slip into the work habits that you had under your old boss, your new boss forgives you, sets you on the right path again, and keeps you going. No matter how many times you do something wrong, no matter how bad you make the company look, Jesus wipes the slate clean and gives you a new start. And he doesn't let you go.
So it's still slavery, you're still life-time employees, but the big difference between your old boss and your new boss is that your new boss works for you. You new boss actually thinks os you as clients instead of employees, and shows his workers the same grace and forgiveness that he shows to everyone. Jesus doesn't just ask you to love your neighbour as yourself, but actually loves you that same way. When you are conflicted, Jesus offers you his peace. When you need some time to work things out and make a change, Jesus is patient with you, and faithful to you. When you've been treated harshly, or are just living in a harsh world, Jesus is kind and gentle to you. And generous? Jesus is so generous with God's grace and forgiveness, sharing it all with you, that it's a wonder there's any left.
This arrangement is better than a promotion, better than overtime, better than an employee rewards program. "The wages of sin is death," Paul says, "but the gift of God is eternal life." That's why we can be thankful that we've been freed from the slavery of the devil and that Jesus is our new boss. Amen.
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