After Thoughts: Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 13:10-17

In the book Community by Peter Block, he writes that for community to happen “…we must be willing to trade their [the communities’] problems for their possibilities.” Oh, but how much easier is it to keep one another in our places? It can be much more comfortable that way. Like in this reading from Luke. A woman crippled for 18 years. We know what to do with her, all of those less fortunate than us. Have pity on her, give her some of our abundance, a tiny portion, and then pat ourselves on the back for our charity. Why do we care how long she’s locked up in her distress, because, as long as she is, we know what to do with her. But what happens if she is healed? What happens if she is no longer dependent on us? What happens if she is able to stand up straight, look us in the eyes, bring all of her gifts to the world? No longer an object of pity, but a human being to be encountered in relationship. Yikes!! That can get really scary.

That is exactly what happened when Jesus healed this woman on the Sabbath. He triggered several hot buttons. So what was going on? Let’s unpack this a bit:

v1: Now Jesus was teaching…and just then a woman appeared…when Jesus saw her. Now, just then, when. There’s a time element to this lesson. No waiting around. When we see something, or someone, that needs us, help now. But “nowness” can be threatening because it is so uncontrollable. Earthly power and authority prefer to have a committee meeting or get a legal opinion first because action changes things. And change can be frightening, intimidating, threatening.

v13: Jesus laid his hands on her. It’s not like he over-exerted himself to heal this woman. He simply touched her. And yet the leader was so upset by this as to deem it “work” and insist that Jesus was violating the Sabbath. Funny, how in the midst of great joy – a woman who had been around them for the past 18 years, bent and crippled, now standing upright – that all he could see was the violation of the law – a law that had been given to create community was turned upside down to empower exclusion.

v14: The leader continues to carry on, insisting that people can come any of those other six days, but not the Sabbath. So what do you imagine he thought the Sabbath was for? He’s saying that healing can happen on any day but the Sabbath? That people can be helped, but not on the Sabbath? Jesus gave it to us plain and simple: love God, love each other. When we over-emphasize the first part and omit the second part, our worship becomes idolatry. We got locked into the traditions, rules, and requirements – all human-made – that can actually separate us from God. When we over-emphasize the second part, we run the danger of becoming social activists with an over-reliance on our ability to save the world.

v15: Jesus does it again. Uses the “h” word. Here they are saying one thing, and yet doing another. Jesus has to point out that they care enough for their animals to untie and water them on the Sabbath. How can they possibly turn away a fellow human, a sister, a daughter of Abraham who needs to be set free and given Living Water? Well, maybe because the animals are their material goods, their source of wealth. Of course, they will look after their assets and best interests, even on the Sabbath. But what about caring for one another? It can be easy to use the rules to justify our actions, our lack of involvement, our complacency, even to be exclusive and shut others out. But Jesus will not let us get by with that.

So, to recap, lessons learned as I re-read this today:

Now is the time.

It doesn’t take that much for healing to occur, just reach out and connect with a fellow human being. God will do the rest.

Don’t use the system, tradition, rules, whatever we want to call it, to exclude others from receiving God’s grace. The table is ready. All are welcome.

After Thoughts: Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 12:49-56

Luke 12 begins with Jesus talking about the hypocrisy of the Pharisees and ends with Jesus calling the crowd ‘hypocrites.’ The word comes from the Greek ‘hypokrite’ which referred to an actor, someone who played a role on a stage for the benefit of an audience and for their own acclaim. It was a person who took on a mask, a costume, a persona, to play whatever part was required in a story written by someone else.

Just before calling them hypocrites, Jesus told the crowd how he has come to bring division, not peace. He goes on to say that this division will be father against son, son against father, mother against daughter, daughter against mother, mother-in-law against daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law against mother-in-law. This is disruptive theology. Where’s the Jesus of peace and love? Who is this guy bringing on conflict?

Let’s dig a bit deeper, especially about those family roles that Jesus names. Rules about relationship within families and within society were quite specific in ancient Rome, just as they had been in ancient Israel. Earthly relationships – things like birth order and gender – dictated matters of economics, discipline, and power. People were confined to live out a ‘role’ imposed upon them from the outside. This is what the Pharisees were trying to do – Jesus says they load the people with burdens hard to bear, and do not lift a finger to help ease them. The ‘laws’ gave the Pharisees justification for discrimination, injustice, prejudice, and misogyny.

Earlier in Luke, we read about the younger brother who appealed to Jesus to make his brother circumvent the law so that he could inherit the family fortune. But Jesus didn’t come to enforce the law. He came to fulfill the law and to “be the end of the law so that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes.” (Romans 10) So it wasn’t just the leaders who were not getting it. Even the crowd, the ordinary folk, who were able to read the signs of nature, so important in their agrarian society, failed to comprehend the message that Jesus was bringing.

What was this message? Well, I’m not able to comprehend that, let alone put it into words, but I think there is a clue is in verse 31. Strive first for God’s kingdom…then everything else will fall into place. That is, take off the mask. Refuse to play the role. Seek to be who and what God created you to be. That begins with acknowledging Christ (v. 8). From that starting point, we are free to be who we are, children of God, the people of God, joint heirs with Christ.

This is when the pretense can fall away. As humans in relationship, it is easy to have expectations of one another if we keep each other in those roles. Parents have expectations of children. Husbands and wives have expectations of each other. Friends, colleagues, in-laws – all of these human roles come loaded with what we want and need from the other person, what we expect them to do for us, how we expect them to treat us. But Jesus makes it clear – there will be division, conflict, arguing, disappointment – in those human roles. Because they are earthly constructs.

Bonhoeffer explains this so well so let’s defer to him. “The call of Jesus teaches us that our relation to the world has been built on an illusion...Now we learn that in the most intimate relationships of life, in our kinship with father and mother, brothers and sisters, in married love, and in our duty to the community, direct relationships are impossible. Since the coming of Christ, his followers have no more immediate realities of their own, not in their family relationships nor in the ties with their nation nor in the relationships formed in the process of living. Between father and son, husband and wife, the individual and the nation, stands Christ the Mediator, whether they are able to recognize him or not. We cannot establish direct contact outside ourselves except through him, through his word, and through our following of him. To think otherwise is to deceive ourselves…We are separated from one another by an unbridgeable gulf of otherness and strangeness which resists all our attempts to overcome by means of natural association or emotional or spiritual union. There is no other way from one person to another…Christ stands between us and we can only get in touch with our neighbors through him.”

Wow! Read that again. Is that profound or what? I cannot do it. You cannot do it. Only Christ can do it. Just as he brought the division by opening our eyes to the illusion we are living, he also brings the means to re-union – through him – by giving up on earthly constructs, by dying to self, and by arising anew to live through Christ.

Although not included in the lectionary reading, the closing verses of Chapter 12 are interesting. Jesus recommends that we try to find a way other than rules, regulations, and laws to settle things. In Jesus fashion, he poses a question. “And why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?” When we do that, when we remember who we are, when we stop playing our roles, and start looking to Christ, it can get tough. We have to stop pretending to be someone we aren’t and, at the same time, and perhaps even harder, we have to let go of putting others into neat little boxes of well-defined roles and responsibilities.

Back to Bonhoeffer who sums it up beautifully. To be a follower of Christ “…in one way or the other we shall have to leave the immediacy of the world and become individuals, whether secretly or openly. But the same Mediator who makes us individuals is also the founder of a new fellowship. He stands in the center between a neighbor and myself. He divides, but he also unites…Though we all have to enter upon discipleship alone, we do not remain alone.”

Listen deep to hear God’s call. Pray constantly to do His work. Seek fervently for His kingdom. Give thanks that God created You. Yes, YOU. Everything about you is His handiwork. Embrace that. All of it, the parts you like and the parts you try to keep hidden in the dark. God already knows all about that. So just be you. And make space and grace for others to be who they are created to be.

May we live worthy of our calling, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. (Ephesians 4)

After Thoughts: Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 12:32-40

Kierkegaard posits that ‘All sins begin with fear.” Fear of failure may lead to cheating, backstabbing, lying. Fear of financial insecurity may lead to hoarding, miserliness, and idol worship when our security is in our bank account. Fear of being hurt in relationship may lead to selfishness, isolation, bitterness. So many of our emotional responses and negative behaviors can be traced back to some deep-rooted fear.

What is the antidote? What is the opposite of fear? Faith. Resting in the promises of God. In last Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus gives us words of profound comfort. “Do not be afraid, little flock.” Because fear leads to sin. But faith overcomes fear. Faith empowers us to live this earthly life with courage, grace, and hope. Courage to face each day and the challenges it may bring. Grace to bring light and joy to ourselves and others even in the darkest hours. Hope to persevere because we know the Father has promised to give us the kingdom. Faith is trust in the Author of our lives and assurance in the eternity of our story.

Because our story is so much bigger than this present moment. Fear makes us forget that. Fear locks us in to a narrow mindset, a myopic perspective, a ditch of despair. Jesus calls us to a place of faith, to be part of that bigger story. That’s what I’ve been thinking about this week as I reflect on this Gospel lesson. Of course, we have to pick bits and pieces, chapter and verse, to study each week because the Bible is so big. But sometimes it’s good to step back and expand the story. No better place than Luke, or Luke-Acts to be even more expansive.

Most theologians agree that these two books have the same author – check out the ending and beginning and you will see the seamless transition. It’s interesting that Luke was the only writer who felt compelled to continue his writing beyond the Gospel. There’s a beautiful parallel between these two books. We can think of Luke in three major parts: 1. Jesus’s birth and preparation for ministry; 2. his ministry in Galilee and journey to Jerusalem; and, 3. the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus. Acts has the same sort of construction: 1. Birth of the Church, the new body of Jesus here on earth; 2. the Church moving outward from Jerusalem; and, 3. Paul and beyond…

The birth of Jesus in Luke is mirrored in the birth of the Church in Acts. Jesus traveled to Jerusalem, the center of worship. In Acts, the apostles travel outward from Jerusalem, to bring the Good News to all people everywhere, to teach us that God does not dwell in buildings made by human hands, but in our hearts. In Luke, Jesus finishes his earthly life and takes his rightful place in heaven. Acts does not have such a neat ending – we are just left with Paul in Rome, proclaiming and teaching with boldness. Because the story is not over. It continues with us. Luke is the Gospel. Acts is our response, beginning with our ancestors in the very first days of the Church, still being written by us here and now. So what are we going to do with this gift of God? Where will we go? What will we do? How will we live? This was and is and will be the work of the Church here on earth until Christ comes again – we will work out the answer to the question - what does it mean to be followers of Christ?

We are part of this answer, helping to write the story. And it is an eternal story. We can live today, and tomorrow, and every day, knowing that, despite what appears to be, it is not the end of the story. Remember when Jesus said these words he knew the next chapter in his story was crucifixion. And yet he was comforting us, assuring us. Fear has been defined as “False Evidence Appearing Real.” No one knew this better than Jesus. It’s going to look bad. It’s going to feel bad. It’s going to hurt and look hopeless. But do not fear, little flock. Faith will see you through. God has some pleasant surprises just ahead.