“Whoever is not against us is for us.”

Are you “with Jesus”? Jesus assures his disciples that what matters is service, not status. Indeed, Jesus gladly welcomes the good work of a stranger, someone the disciples don’t even know … or recognized as following ‘us’. 

Including in the kingdom, not sorting people out, is what Jesus is all about. The disciples fret over control of the power of the Spirit, but it flows where it will and will not stay put in any narrow channels. 

Meanwhile Jesus warns that to cause anyone - a new believer, a child - to stumble or fall away from the grace of the Kingdom is a woeful and dangerous thing. 

We are to discard whatever hinders us from fully living into the good news of the kingdom that Jesus brings.

Jesus uses extreme metaphors - eye, hand, foot - to wake us up and drive this point home. For it is not physical but moral injuries that hold us back, and parts of ourselves - our behaviors, our attitudes - that we clutch onto when we could be free if we gave them up. 

Remember how quickly Blind Bartimaeus cast aside his begging cloak, or Matthew his tax tables, when Jesus called. Remember also how Judas clutched to the purse and his narrow idea of a Kingdom and a Messiah rather than opening to the new reality.

We hear in the letter of James that this Kingdom message is about more than individual behavior. The epistle exhorts us to remember we act as part of a community, in solidarity. Our prayers for one another, and our confessions of our faults - our sins - to each other, build up that unity, so much in contrast to competition or status-seeking.

Remember the warning to seek not too high a place at the common feast but take one even so low the host makes you move up? Remember how that heaven-sent host himself did not sit at all but served? That is the way to be great.

(The disciples come to report to Jesus two “unauthorized persons” are casting out demons in his name.)

One comic example of invoking status by invoking a name comes from the movie “Shakespeare in Love” where toward the end the censorious killjoy Mr Tillney - despite his title, Master of Revels - is seeking to shut down a shocking shocking display on stage of the theatre during a performance of “Romeo and Juliet”, and bellows out, once too often, “In the name of the Queen…”

Only to be brought up short by the sovereign herself, rising from her inconspicuous seat in the audience: “Have a care with my name, Mr Tillney: you’ll wear it out.”

Oh dear. Truly no man knoweth the day or the hour.

Better seek to serve than to be served, to understand than to be understood, to praise than to be praised, to obey the spirit of the law of love than to enforce the letter of the code of fear.

The passage from Numbers also exposes the unregulated quality of the Spirit Worrying Joshua is the discovery of two people actively prophesying inside the camp, that is, outside the circle of those present with Moses.

Joshua implores, “Lord Moses, forbid them!” But Moses ripostes, “Are you jealous?” and goes on to exclaim,

“Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets!”

Again, the work of God, the power of the Spirit, includes - not excludes - beyond our comfort, and often and beyond the control we desire.

I totally understand their concern, Joshua and the disciples, but keep in mind that the crazy fiesta of the Spirit at work happens in accordance with the will of God and the advent of his Reign.

When we pray “on earth as it is in heaven” do we expect it to go so far as this? How do we test it, feel confident that we are indeed “with Jesus”? 

The radical welcome of the kingdom of God includes to all who do the work of mercy and justice , all who exercise a ministry of compassion.

“Whoever is not against us is for us.”

Nobody has a corner on the ministries of healing and liberation. None of us has a cause to “scandalize” - to lead astray, or reject, or make unwelcome - any “little one” that belongs to the Lord: child, newcomer, or stranger. 

What we learn from the ‘unauthorized’ exercise of a ministry in Jesus’ name is that healing comes from faith and prayer, not some special power or status (part of the in-group).

God’s power is inclusive and open to cooperation, not restricted to an inner circle. It is a mighty force, and does not always go through the ‘proper’ channels … at least not ones we recognize.

What sets apart the followers of Jesus is their “saltiness” - their lives of purified righteousness, hindrances cleared away; their humility, service, hospitality to outcasts, 

-- and the audacity and faith to claim even a crucified Lord. May we welcome him even as we open our arms to the least of his children, and the most audacious.

 

Amen.

σκανδαλίζουν

If any of you scandalize (put a stumbling-block before) one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. (Mark 9:42)

So how are we doing? To ‘scandalize’ someone in the Bible context would be to cause them to fall away or turn aside from the embrace of the kingdom of God, to cause them to fall or stumble as they seek to walk the way of the followers of Jesus. Are we doing that - or its opposite? How are we doing, at welcoming and encouraging the ‘little ones’ - new believers, children, strangers - as fellow servants, among the beloved ones of our Savior? 

These questions we ask ourselves both as individuals and as a church; and we even might push the question out into civil society, social organizations, work environments, casual encounters in the checkout line… just as we might confront any exclusive or rude behavior, especially toward those who most need us to speak up.

One of my favorite stories from the webinar I watched Thursday afternoon (September 25th 2021) from the Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service was the experience one of their own case managers had when he and his family arrived at the Phoenix airport, as (UN vetted) refugees from Iraq. There were people standing there with banners, with their names on them, to welcome them. “I thought you said you didn’t know anybody here,” his wife said. It turned out these were their sponsors for resettlement.

That matches something that Steve Farley organized at Tucson International Airport a few years ago for people arriving from overseas. Here the banners read ‘Arizona Welcomes Refugees’ and local church people held them high.

Similar efforts continue here in southern Arizona through Lutheran Social Services and the International Rescue Committee. 

Like many efforts to welcome the stranger or the unknown friend, these activities can be challenging to me, maybe to all of us, if we are not familiar with or regularly engaged in the activity. 

As for me one of the joys of visiting the former convent on Country Club Drive, back when it was the host site for newly-released refugees and migrants, was going there with a young cousin from another state, who could see for herself what was going on, and meet a few people, volunteers and guests, rather than just seeing it through the lens of media.

Those are collective actions and sometimes there is a feeling of safe exploration beyond where one of us might go alone. It is, as a friend advised me when I first came to the borderlands, a good practice to begin by making friends. 

When I meet you, Lord, in the person of a stranger, a child, one of your little ones, please welcome me and break bread with me, or share a human moment, that we might do justice, love mercy, and walk together on the pilgrim road to grace. Amen.

September 26 Lectionary 26 Pentecost 18 

Numbers 11:4-6,10-16, 24-29. “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!” 

Psalm 19:7-14. “The law of the Lord is perfect and revives the soul…”

James 5:13-20. “The prayer of the righteous…”

Mark 9:38-50. Another Exorcist. Temptation to Sin. “Whoever is not against us is for us.”

Lutheran Church of the Foothills, Tucson. https://www.foothillslutherantucson.org/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UNq_06k5yXw

JRL+

σκανδαλίζουν

σκανδαλίζουν

If any of you put a stumbling-block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. (Mark 9:42)

So how are we doing? To ‘scandalize’ someone in the Bible context would be to cause them to fall away or turn aside from the embrace of the kingdom of God, to cause them to fall or stumble as they seek to walk the way of the followers of Jesus. Are we doing that - or its opposite? How are we doing, at welcoming and encouraging the ‘little ones’ - new believers, children, strangers - as fellow servants or beloved ones of our Savior? 

These questions we ask ourselves both as individuals and as a church; and we even might push the question out into civil society, social organizations, work environments, casual encounters in the checkout line… just as we might confront any exclusive or rude behavior, especially toward those who most need us to speak up.

One of my favorite stories from the webinar I watched Thursday afternoon (September 25th 2021) from the Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service was the experience one of their own case managers had when he and his family arrived at the Phoenix airport, as UN vetted refugees from Iraq. There were people standing there with banners with their names on them to welcome them. “I thought you said you didn’t know anybody here,” his wife said. It turned out these were their sponsors for resettlement.

That matches something that Steve Farley organized at Tucson International Airport a few years ago for people arriving from overseas. Here the banners read ‘Arizona Welcomes Refugees’ and local church people held them high.

Similar efforts continue here in southern Arizona through Lutheran Social Services and the International Rescue Committee. 

Like many efforts to welcome the stranger or the unknown friend, these activities can be challenging to me, maybe to all of us, if we are not familiar or regularly engaged in the activity. 

As for me one of the joys of visiting the former Benedictine Shrine of Perpetual Adoration on Country Club Drive, back when it was the host site for newly-released refugees and migrants, was going there with a young cousin from another state, who could see for herself what was going on, and meet a few people, volunteers and guests, rather than just seeing it through the lens of media.

Those are collective actions and sometimes there is a feeling of safe exploration beyond where one of us might go alone. It is, as a friend advised me when I first came to the borderlands, a good practice to begin by making friends. Good food, music, laughter - these take us away from our formal associations and identities. And after all, isn’t breaking bread together what we are all about?

When I meet you, Lord, in the person of a stranger, a child, one of your little ones, please welcome me and break bread with me, or share a human moment, that we might do justice, love mercy, and walk together on the pilgrim road to grace.

JRL+

Are you with Jesus?

 

Are you “with Jesus”? Jesus assures his disciples that what matters is service, not status. Indeed, Jesus gladly welcomes the good work of a stranger, someone the disciples don’t even know … or recognized as following ‘us’. 

Including in the kingdom, not sorting people out, is what Jesus is all about. The disciples fret over control of the power of the Spirit, but it flows where it will and will not stay put in any narrow channels. 

Meanwhile Jesus warns that to cause anyone - a new believer, a child - to stumble or fall away from the grace of the Kingdom is a woeful and dangerous thing. 

We are to discard whatever hinders us from fully living into the good news of the kingdom that Jesus brings.

Jesus uses extreme metaphors to wake us up and drive this point home. For it is not physical but moral injuries that hold us back, and parts of ourselves - our behaviors, our attitudes - that we clutch onto when we could be free if we gave them up. 

Remember how quickly Blind Bartimaeus cast aside his begging cloak, or Matthew his tax tables, when Jesus called. Remember also how Judas clutched to the purse and his narrow idea of a Kingdom and a Messiah rather than opening to the new reality.

We hear in the letter of James that this Kingdom message is about more than individual behavior. The epistle exhorts us to remember we act as part of a community, in solidarity. Our prayers for one another, and our confessions of our faults - our sins - to each other, build up that unity, so much in contrast to competition or status-seeking.

Remember the warning to seek not too high a place at the common feast but take one even so low the host makes you move up? Remember how that heaven-sent host himself did not sit at all but served? That is the way to be great.

One comic example of invoking status by invoking a name comes from the movie “Shakespeare in Love” where toward the end the censorious killjoy Mr Tillney - despite his title, Master of Revels - is seeking to shut down a shocking shocking display on stage of the theatre during a performance of “Romeo and Juliet”, and bellows out, once too often, “In the name of the Queen…”

Only to be brought short by the sovereign herself, rising from her inconspicuous set in the audience: “Have a care with my name, Mr Tillney: you’ll wear it out.”

Oh dear. Truly no man knoweth the day or the hour.

Better seek to serve than to be served, to understand than to be understood, to praise than to be praised, to obey the law of love than to enforce the letter of the code of fear.

The passage from Numbers also exposes the unregulated quality of the Spirit Worrying Joshua is the discovery of two actively prophesying inside the camp, that is, outside the circle of those present with Moses.

Joshua implores, “Lord Moses, forbid them!” But Moses ripostes, “Are you jealous?” and goes on to exclaim,

“Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets!”

Again, the work of God, the power of the Spirit, includes - not excludes - beyond our comfort, and often and beyond our control.

I totally understand their concern, Joshua and the disciples, but keep in mind that the crazy fiesta of the Spirit at work happens in accordance with the will of God and the advent of his Reign.

When we pray “on earth as it is in heaven” do we expect it to go so far as this? How do we test it, feel confident that we are indeed “with Jesus”? 

The radical welcome of the kingdom of God is to all who do the work of mercy and justice , all who exercise a ministry of compassion.

Nobody has a corner on the ministries of healing and liberation. None of us has a cause to “scandalize” - to lead astray, or reject, or make unwelcome - any “little one” that belongs to the Lord: child, newcomer, or stranger. 

What we learn from the ‘unauthorized’ exercise of a ministry in Jesus’ name is that healing comes from faith and prayer, not some special power or status.

God’s power is inclusive and open to cooperation, not restricted to an inner circle. It is a mighty force, and does not always go through the ‘proper’ channels … at least not ones we recognize.

What sets apart the followers of Jesus is their “saltiness” - their lives of purified righteousness, hindrances cleared away; their humility, service, hospitality to outcasts, 

-- and the audacity and faith to claim even a crucified Lord. May we welcome him even as we open our arms to the least of his children, and the most audacious.

 

Amen.

family reunion

Summer time people often travel - to back home. They may go to new and exciting places. Quite often, though, they go where they are known: where they know the people, and know the place, and know where they fit - or used to fit - in that landscape and that group of people. It's you, they say, and so it is - if you want it to be. May be you don't - could be painful. May be you do: it could be, after all, a place and a people where you fit, and fit well. That well-come may be just what you need.

If it's been a hard year, if you lost your job, if illness means you cannot do that work anymore, if you cannot be to someone what you once were, it comforts to know that you are known. For yourself, hopefully.

For yourself, in God's eyes, for ultimately who you are. Ultimately who you are at the end of things is the person God meant you to be, the person God saw all along, knew you could be - if you want to be, if you let it be, if you let God be the one who makes it be: the one who made you redeems you, fills you over-top with gifts that spill over into the lives of those around you. Because you are not the only one coming home, you are not the only one who needs that welcome.

In fact you are one of the family - the welcoming family, that God calls into being, that God calls together from place to place, from time to time, in little groups of two or three, or family gatherings.

Maybe it's just a favorite uncle and you, meeting for a drink and a little something to eat - or a great gathering of cousins, aunts, and uncles. Long forgotten and daily familiar - and brand new, first time here, just gathered into the family, the family gathering at this time, at this place.

Make them welcome - (especially) if they are strangers - strangers to you. For many have been entertained by angels unawares.

Under the oaks of Mamre, an Old Testament trinity of Abraham and Sarah and their long-suffering silent servant provide hospitality to three strange visitors.

It's a test of sorts - or a celebration. Depending on how you look at it.

It's a feast, in Abraham's eyes. Go prepare a calf, they tell the servant. Make cakes of meal and oil. Serve them. Water for their feet? A bit of rest, a seat in the shade - the shade of the trees, the oaks of Mamre.

The meeting place, already ancient then, no doubt, of humans crossing paths in the middle of a strange new land.

It's a land of promise to Abraham - and a promise comes.

It's a promise of comic hope, to Sarah - and she shouts in surprise with laughter, greeting the news - the strangers bring: how do they know? Is it just a blessing - a guest's wish? Or more? - They say: your wife is going to have a baby. We shall see.


Martha, Mary, sisters of Lazarus. They greet a greater One than these Three.

And they welcome him - according to custom, as it would be, having Abraham's example before them - and overcoming custom, as one of the sisters takes a man's place - or a disciple's place - at the foot of the Master, Teacher, Rabbi.

Tell her to come help me...

Martha, Martha, my dear. Don't you worry. Don't fret yourself or her. All will be well.

All manner of thing shall be well - and she has chosen the better part: better because the Lord is with her, with her now, and all these things shall be looked after -


Come sit with us, Martha, for a moment - let the dishes soak. Let my feet remain unwashed (yes even the Master's feet) - for a moment.

Let's refresh each other in a greater hospitality: the hope, the love, the great gifts of God.

And then, let's get on with the feet washing, the bread making, the dishes, - and the plowing, the sowing, the harvest - and the baking, again.

But for now - together - Martha and Mary and Lazarus and all - together - be at peace.

The Lord is here.



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Forgiveness Sunday

Forgiveness Sunday
September 14, 2008

Here we are again, with good old Charlie Brown. Lucy is holding the football, and Charlie Brown is eager to practice the kickoff. But he knows – he knows! – that as soon as he gets up to the ball, Lucy will snatch it away, and he’ll miss and land on his back. Again. But she says, Oh, Charlie Brown, have you lost all your faith in humanity? And so – he goes for it. And at the last second, as he kicks, she snatches the ball away, and he lands flat on his back. He is lying there, and she leans over him, to say, “Isn’t it better this way, Charlie Brown? Isn’t it better to trust people?”

(PEANUTS by Charles Schulz, 1961, reprinted today)

Almighty God, whose beloved Son willingly endured the agony and shame of the cross for our redemption: Give us courage to take up our cross and follow him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

This is Forgiveness Sunday: the Sunday every year when we remember Jesus’ saying to forgive one’s enemies not just 7 times, but as many as 70 times 7.

It is three days after we remember the events of September 11, 2001, when nearly three thousand people died in a coordinated sequence of terrorist attacks.

If you were to pray for one person each day who died in those attacks, and had started that very day, you would not be finished going through the list for the first time until the middle of next October.

It is, this year, the day before the feast of the Holy Cross – when we remember the death of one, for all, that turned the world around, from death to life.

What would it look like to forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven – or seven hundred times seven? What kind of world would it be? And what would it take to get there?

It would take a miracle.

God would have to go first.

Jesus gives us a clue – in his story of the impossibly wealthy person who demanded of, then forgave, an immense sum from her servant. As if God were to demand from us all that we have from him – all that we owe him – and then were to turn around and tell us that the slate is wiped clean, that our debt is forgiven.

All we have to do, it appears from the parable, is to go and – on our own small scale – do the same for those who are in our debt.

“Pay me that thou owest!” is the slave’s response.

It is the response of a person who acts as if he is still in bondage. He doesn’t know he is free; he still has the mentality of a man in chains.

The free person’s response is different.

Because we are set free, indeed, because we can testify – as Chris Tomlin sings:

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, Amazing grace

Then we can forgive, then we can on our own humble scale begin to imagine, begin to live into, a world set free by the mercy and the grace of the living God.

What would it look like? Not on a political scale, not even that –

What would it look like if someone was to demand of me my cloak and I gave my coat as well? If, pressed into service by a passing soldier, I carried his gear for him not one mile but two? If someone were to strike me on the cheek and I simply offered the other?

What would it look like to live as if the gospel were a practical guide to life?

What would it look like to set down the weapons of darkness and put on the armor of light – to put on the mercy and grace and forgiveness, and strength in truth, of Christ?

For his way is a way of truth and righteousness and justice and strength.

The peace of God is no false spring, no fake hope. It is real.

Look at how direct Christ is: he brooks no dishonesty or falsehood or false pride – or false modesty.

The woman caught in adultery is brought to him – and he says to her accusers, let the one without sin cast the first stone. That is enough for them to scatter. When they are gone, he turns to her, and says, “Go – and do not sin again.”

It is not forgetting, it is not denying, it is not saying to the one who has trespassed, “Oh, never mind – whatever. What you do is of no significance to me. (You are of no significance to me.)”

No. Christ gives to each the dignity that is their due – he does not lay aside their sin without acknowledgment: forgiveness is not dismissal.

He sees the person – and calls them to account, like the unjust steward in the parable; he calls them to a new way of being – a way of justice and truth, acknowledging their sins, and then – then – moving forward.

Once the chains are removed, then they are free.

Once the chains are removed, we – you and I – are free.

And that is the freedom he calls us to, one made possible only by the Holy Cross of Christ: for in his sacrifice on the behalf of the whole world, once offered, once made, came the forgiveness of the world, the reconciliation to God himself of all his creatures.

Now we are called, to make our own lives part of that discipline of forgiveness, part of that regime of reconciliation, no longer living as dark forms in the clashing night, but in the dawning of the day to become part of the army of light – to bear in his service the armor of day, to bring forth and make manifest the victory, through the holy Cross, of the Reconciler, the Light of the world.

Almighty and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in your well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Lord God Almighty, you have made all the peoples of the earth for your glory, to serve you in freedom and in peace: Give to the people of our country a zeal for justice and the strength of forbearance, that we may use our liberty in accordance with your gracious will; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world to himself: Mercifully grant that we, who glory in the mystery of our redemption, may have grace to take up our cross and follow him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.


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Pentecost XVIII
Exodus 14:19-31
Exodus 15:1b-11,20-21
Romans 14:1-12
Matthew 18:21-35



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