After Thoughts: Twenty-Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 21:5-19

On the surface, today’s Gospel reminds me of Chicken Little. Remember the story? An acorn falls on her head, she takes it to be a bit of the heavens that has landed upon her, and begins running hither and thither crying “The skies are falling! The skies are falling!” She decides she must report this to the king, but she’s not sure where to find him. As she runs along, others join her, all hoping to help her find her destination. At last, along comes Fox Lox who assures the fowlish group – Henny Penny, Duck Luck, Loose Goose, Turkey Lurkey – that he knows the way. Fox Lox leads them straight to his den, ushers them in, and that’s the end of the story.

Yes, on the surface this reading seems to be all doom and gloom, the sky is falling. Wars, insurrections, earthquakes, famines, plagues. It goes on and on from bad to worse to downright terrifying. But keep reading. We are not lost like Chicken Little. The King has found us. And promises that the realities of this earthly world are temporary. Whether the glory of the Temple or the end of ages, through good and bad, God remains. With this assurance, we can remain humble in times of prosperity and brave in times of trouble.

In all times, but especially in those hard times, we can rejoice because these circumstances are an opportunity to testify. What a cloud of witnesses I am blessed to know. My mother facing and fighting cancer at the age of 42. My grandmother saying her goodbyes at the age of 90 certain of her reward. My dad’s steadfast love and support despite his broken heart as my brother wrestled the demons of addiction. So many who have faced financial, emotional, physical, relationship, and mental hardships, earthquakes that shake life to its very foundations, and yet they have carried on, their faith strengthened through the trials, their very being witnessing to the glory of God.

Jesus tells us these things will happen, not to frighten us, but to prepare us. But he doesn’t want us to dwell on them. He says to “make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.” Do not prepare your defense; that is, don’t live like you’re under attack already. If you run around with the belief that the sky is falling, every little nut that drops into your day will have you predicting the end of the world. Preparing a defense is about proving yourself right – your perspective gets out of focus. So let us choose what we know for certain. And what we know is that this is the day the Lord has made – we will rejoice and be glad in it. We will live today. We won’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring enough worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

When that day comes – when the worst for us happens, whatever that may be – God will provide. We will have words and wisdom and peace that passes understanding. We will know that God is God in those darkest moments. Malachi tells us that there will be healing and – I love this image – that we will go out leaping like calves from the stall. Can you see it, too? All gangly and uncoordinated and newly-made, dancing into freedom.

So do not fear, little flock. God is in control. Let us not be like Chicken Little and her gang of cluckers who believe Fox Lox and follow him to their doom. Oddly, Fox Lox himself never believed the sky was falling – he played to their fears to feed his greed. But we know where to find the King. He has told us there will be days and times when it seems the sky is falling. But do not despair. Not a hair, not one single hair of our heads, will perish. And by our endurance we will gain our souls.

Or as Eugene Peterson interprets it in The Message: Stay with it to the end. You won’t be sorry – you’ll be saved.

After Thoughts: Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 20:27-38

This Gospel reading for the 25th Sunday after Pentecost, falling on the Sunday we celebrate All Saints’ Day, has been a great comfort to me. You may be wondering why. I know, at first reading, it seems a bit odd and perhaps irrelevant. If a man dies, and his wife has no children, the man’s brother marries her. That brother dies and another brother marries her. On and on until all seven brother-in-law/husbands are gone, and finally, the poor woman herself passes on. Which one is her husband in the afterlife? It does indeed sound strange. But even weirder is the original law which calls for sandal removal and spitting in the face if the law is broken. (See Deut. 25 for the details.)

It’s not just this law that interests me. It’s all those fascinating laws of the OT that we often laugh at or disregard, but which have such profound purpose. The Law was given to flawed creatures (all humankind) living in an imperfect world (throughout time, not just this current generation) to protect and enrich relationship, first with God, and then with one another. Women today still have our struggles, but they are of a different type than this perpetual bride who lived in a time when women were basically property. As long as a female had a husband or son, a male protector, she had some degree of security. On her own, she was nothing.

So this particular law, much like Jesus’s rebuke of divorce, as well as all of the law, is meant to protect, love, and nurture the most vulnerable in society. The law is perverted when, as the Sadducees in this story did, and as we often do, it is misinterpreted in legalistic, literalistic, and often pedantic ways. To attempt to apply earthly law to the heavenly realm is a gross misunderstanding of God’s cosmos. Jesus tells them in no uncertain terms how off track they are in their thinking.

Yet, for those of us who do believe in resurrection, we often try to imagine what it might be like. Some might say those imaginings are childish or futile, even sappy and silly. But having experienced the loss of both parents and a younger brother, I must say there is something comforting in thinking of them there together in heaven. After my dad died, my cousin sent a beautiful email, imagining Dad arriving in heaven, back with his parents and his dear sister who had died too early. He painted a picture in words of them gathered around the kitchen table, cups of coffee for all, eagerly awaiting Dad’s arrival and asking him to put on a pot of chili.

Sappy and silly, perhaps. But I don’t think Jesus would mind. Like the anticipation of Christmas morning, so is the resurrection, and the promise of no more tears, no more death. Jesus has something remarkably good in store for God’s children after this earthly journey. As the one-year anniversary of my mother’s death came around this week, there was tremendous solace in this promise, remembering her as one of those saints who has gone to her reward. After my dad died in 2010, we found a little handwritten note folded in his wallet. “The best is yet to come.” For my mom, dad, and brother, that ‘best’ has come.

As a child, I loved Heidi – the book, the movie, the whole idea of a little girl running around on a beautiful mountain. Years later, as an adult, I was blessed to call Switzerland home for several years and to travel around the country. On one trip to a small mountain village, I disappeared when we got to the hotel. I had wandered around to the side porch, a wide veranda stocked with rocking chairs, and got lost in the beauty before me. Charlie was calling my name. When he finally came around the corner and found me, I was beaming. “Remember when you dream about something and so many times the reality is a disappointment? But this? This is so much better than I even imagined. It takes my breath away.”

Just take a moment to think about all these beautiful earthly gifts God has bestowed upon us. Mountains, deserts, plains. Sun, moon, stars. Animals, forests, sea, and land. And especially us, the human race, and the gift of relationship with one another. Relationship comes in so many different packages and is a profound, though imperfect, gift in our fallen world. Romantic love is beautiful. Until it isn’t. Parenthood is wonderful, yet painful when relationship splinters. Friendship is a blessing, but can fall apart. Our human relationships are still beautiful though fragile and deeply flawed. In the resurrection, relationship will be perfected, purified, and made whole. So it is that imagination fails me when I ponder entering the dance of sacred eternal relationship with the Divine Trinity at the resurrection. The best is yet to come indeed.

After Thoughts: Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 19:1-10

The journey to Jerusalem is drawing to a close. Last week, we read about the Pharisee and the tax collector. A few important verses passed between this reading and today’s verses. First, Jesus rebukes the disciples, and directs them to allow the little children to come to him. He says that all of us must come as little children or we will never enter the kingdom. Second, Jesus meets the rich man who wants to know what he has to do to inherit eternal life. Jesus tells him that what is impossible with man is possible with God. Third, Jesus tells the disciples that death is awaiting him when they reach Jerusalem. Fourth, Jesus heals a blind man.

And now here we are in Chapter 19 and all of these ideas culminate in the encounter with Zacchaeus, as if Jesus knew that the wee little man would be waiting in that sycamore tree and he was laying the groundwork for the meeting.

First, Zacchaeus was childlike – he was small in stature, he ran ahead of the crowd, and scuttled up a tree to get a better view. He did not comport himself like a refined statesman – he just followed his eagerness to see Jesus and went for it like a kid on Christmas morning. If you think “children should be seen and not heard” is harsh, this was nothing compared to social norms in the time of Jesus. So for Jesus to say we need to become like little children would have been a major issue for most people. It would mean giving up everything – power, status, privilege, self-esteem, freedom. In his seeking, Zacchaeus humbled himself. Zacchaeus, in his childlikeness, enters the kingdom of God!

Second, eternal life is about what God has done. The rich man came to Jesus certainly to get affirmation that he was doing well and was on the right track. Zacchaeus did not even consider approaching Jesus – he wanted only to see him. In his seeking, Jesus found him and God did the impossible. Zacchaeus is a son of Abraham!!

Third, and for the third time, Jesus calls his disciples aside and tells them about his death and resurrection. Jesus is revealing his identity, giving them the inside scoop. And yet those closest to him, right there in the front row of history, could not see it. Zacchaeus saw with the eyes of his heart what others were missing. So he ran and climbed and humbled himself hoping for just a glimpse. He got a lot more. In his seeking, Zacchaeus learned he was already found. Zacchaeus is known by name!

Fourth, like the blind man, Zacchaeus is healed and made whole. He sees Jesus and, in this seeing, in this knowing of who Jesus truly is, he also sees himself, loved and forgiven and now ready to love and serve others. From here on, there will be no going up to the temple to find God. God is here, passing by, coming to us, saving the lost. In his seeking, Zacchaeus receives new life!

As we sing the Alleluia chorus on Sunday, may we recall Zacchaeus and eagerly arise, stretching our hearts to see Jesus in the Gospel lesson. When he calls to us by name, let our joy overflow. The Creator of the Universe is coming to our house today.