the god of the jesus prayer

Year C • 23rd Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 25
Sirach 35:12­–17 • Psalm 84:1–6 • 2 Timothy 4:6–8, 16–18 • Luke 18:9–14

(Scroll Down for the Texts of the Scriptures)

Delivered on Sunday, October 27th, a.d. 2013

at St. John's Episcopal Church (Wichita, Kansas)

Sermon available as a PDF by clicking here.

The Sermon

Happy are they who dwell in your house, [O Lord]! 
they will always be praising you.

(Psalm 84:3)

God is Good and Loving and Out to Get Me!

I grew up in the church, and I loved it. Church was one of my favorite places to be. I was baptized as an infant, confirmed as a pre-teen, and had a very powerful and transformative spiritual experience when I was 14 or 15. I attended Sunday school, and I served as an acolyte, week in and week out. I loved participating in the liturgy, and I read and studied the Bible with great regularity and interest. I loved God, and I loved Jesus. By the time I was ready to graduate from high school, I was thoroughly convinced that God was good… and loving… and out to get me. Yes, I believed that God was good and loving and out to get me, and at the time, I saw no contradiction.

Now I don’t have time to explain how I came to view God in this way, but I will say that my distorted image of who God was seriously affected how I prayed. At times, I didn’t pray at all. At other times, I limited my prayers. For example, I stopped praying for things that I wanted or even needed. Why? Because I was convinced that if I asked God for something, God would make a concerted effort to ensure that I didn’t get what I asked for. Praying just drew God’s attention. So I learned that it was better not to pray. Better not to pray than to risk God sabotaging my dreams.

God was good and loving and out to get me, and I had plenty of evidence to support my hypothesis. For example, when I was about 11 or 12 or 13 years old, I got one of those nasty colds that settles in your eyes. The kind where your vision is slightly blurred, and you keep blinking to clear them up but to no avail. I was miserable, and I remember praying, “Dear God, can you please take this eye cold away. Just give me a regular cold instead, but please, O please, can’t you clear up my eyes.” Well, you can guess what happened. Within in a few days time, I was sneezing and coughing AND blinking my eyes. I now had a cold in my chest AND in my eyes. I remember then going to church to acolyte for midnight mass. I was vesting in the sacristy, and I told my priest about my prayer and what became of it. He just laughed and said, “Yeah, you’ve got to be careful about what you pray for.” That confirmed it for me. God was good and loving and out to get me.

God is Good and Loving and Out to Do Me Good!

When I entered college as a religion major at Friends University, this distorted image of God was firmly in place. But something happened during my junior year. Through reading and studying, through important friendships, and through the messages of guest speakers that came to the University, my images of who God was and of who I was began to be healed and transformed. That year, one of the speakers at chapel gave a talk on the radical, unconditional love of God. His name was Brennan Manning, and he had written a book entitled, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out. It was a painful, yet transformative year. I became increasingly convinced that God was not only good and loving but that he was out to do me good. I say it was a painful year because while I was convinced of this truth in my head, I had such a hard time getting my heart to follow suit. I just couldn’t seem to get this truth to take up residence in my gut, which is really where faith resides. I could offer up all manner of biblical and theological arguments for why God was good and loving and out to do me good, and for why I was beautiful and precious in God’s sight, but my gut always betrayed me. In my head, I knew God loved me; but I was still afraid.

And so, do you know what I began to do? I began to pray again. Specifically, I began to pray for things that I needed, even things that I wanted, big things and small things. It didn’t matter because if God were truly out to do me good, then I should be able to trust God with anything, no matter how small or great, no matter how noble or selfish. Early on, when I began to pray this way, my stomach would get all tied up in knots and I would panic because my old, distorted image of God would stir up feelings of fear and anxiety. When this occurred, I would simply remind myself: “God is good and loving and out to do me good. God is good and loving and out to do me good. This is true. Even though my gut is not convinced, this is still true, and so I am going to act as if it is true. I am going to pray as if it is true. I am no longer going to hide anything from God. Instead, I am going to step out in faith. I am going to trust God enough to offer up to him all of my wishes, wants, and needs, all of my hopes and dreams.” And do you know what happened? Over time, my trust in God’s goodness began to take root and my fear and anxiety were slowly replaced by freedom and peace.

This experience taught me something important, something that Christians throughout the centuries have known, namely, that praying shapes believing. That is, how we pray to God informs and reinforces what we believe about God. At one point in my life, I believed that God was out to get me, so I stopped asking God for anything, and that practice of hiding from God served to reinforce my distorted image of who God was. It became a downward spiral because praying shapes believing. But then the truth of who God really is broke into my life and I began to understand that God was on my side, that God not only loved me but he liked me. And when I began to step out in faith, when I began to risk asking God for what I wanted and needed, my faith began to flourish because praying shapes believing.

The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax-Collector

Last week Jesus told us a parable about our need to pray always and not to lose heart. In it, a curmudgeon of a judge rules in a widow’s favor, not because he is concerned about justice and fairness, he’s not, but because the widow wears him down with her repeated demands for justice. Speaking to those of us who think God must be similarly worn down before He will act on our behalf, Jesus says: “Will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them” (Luke 18:7­–8a).

Jesus then follows this parable with another parable about prayer and justice, which we heard read today. It is a parable about two men, the one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector, both of whom have gone up to the Jerusalem temple to offer up prayers to God. I would like to take a few moments to look at their prayers, the posture of their prayers and the content of their prayers, to see how their prayers reflect and shape their views about who God is.

The Posture of Their Prayers

     First of all, imagine if you will, the temple complex in Jerusalem, at the center of which stands the temple proper, where only priests are allowed. Leading up to the temple are a series of courts—the court of the Gentiles, the court of women, and the court of Israel, where only Jewish males are allowed to pray and where our Pharisee and our tax-collector are to be found. Imagine also, large crowds, hundreds upon hundreds of Jewish pilgrims, offering up their prayers to God, eyes toward heaven and praying aloud. It’s very noisy; it’s very crowded.

      The Pharisee, however, is “standing by himself.” He has separated himself from the other pilgrims, those whom he despises, giving thanks to God that he is not like any of them—thieves, rogues, and adulterers. The tax-collector also stands apart, but for very different reasons. It’s all that he can do just to be there in that place, so close to God and, at the same time, so aware of his own sin, shame, and helplessness. And so, he stands far off, beating his breast, with his head downcast, not even daring to look up to heaven.

The Content of Their Prayers

     The content of their prayers is as different as their postures. The Pharisee offers God an inventory of his spiritual virtues and practices. “I fast, not once but, twice a week; and I give a tenth of everything I take in.” In other words, the Pharisee identifies those things that cause him to stand out from the crowd, in the hope that God will notice him, that God will commend him for his faithfulness, and on that basis will love and accept him. He is desperate for his heavenly Father’s love and acceptance, and he seeks to secure it through his performance. He is like prodigal son’s elder brother who says to his father, “I have worked like a slave for you all these years, and I have never once disobeyed you.” With his prayer, the Pharisee seeks to show that he is worthy of God’s love, and consequently, he cannot go home justified. He cannot go home at peace with God, not simply because he despises other men, but because he believes that God’s love is conditional. So long as he believes that his relationship with God is dependent upon his own performance and virtue, he will never be at peace with God. His prayer reinforces a distorted image of who God is.

      The tax collector is also desperate for his heavenly Father’s love and acceptance. But, unlike the Pharisee, he does not have anything to offer to God. He does not have anything to commend himself other than his sin, guilt, and shame. And so, with nothing to offer, he simply throws himself upon God’s mercy. During the past few weeks, as I have reflected upon this parable, my thoughts were repeatedly drawn to the simplicity of the tax-collector’s prayer. What struck me was how different his prayer was from the Pharisee’s, though not exactly its opposite. The Pharisee lists his virtues, but the tax-collector doesn’t list his vices. He does not offer up a litany of sins, but simply asks for mercy. “God, have mercy on me, sinner that I am.” It’s a simple prayer, born no doubt out of desperation, but also born of faith. Why do I say faith? Because his paucity of words reflects an abundance of trust in God. The tax-collector’s prayer reminds me of a book I once read; it had a chapter entitled, “If God Is So Smart, Why Am I Doing All the Talking?”

Unlike the Pharisee, the tax-collector doesn’t do all the talking. He doesn’t use many words. He doesn’t have to because God is pretty smart. Moreover, God is pretty trustworthy. Jesus once said, “When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matt 6:7–8). God knew what the tax-collector needed, so it was enough for him to pray, “Lord have mercy.” The tax-collector came to the temple with nothing, and he went home with everything. He went home justified, reconciled to God and therefore at peace.

Prayer Cultivates Faith

What we pray and how we pray, shapes how and what we believe about God. And so, we need a practice of prayer that reminds us of God’s goodness and faithfulness. Stewardship is about taking care of the resources that God has placed within our care. Stewardship, however, is not simply about maintaining what we have been given, it is also about cultivating and multiplying those resources, be they time, talent, or treasure. In the past several weeks, we’ve heard that faith is not something we create, rather it is a gift from God. But for faith to flourish, it must be cultivated. Like a grain of wheat, faith has great potential for growing and producing more faith. Yet, like a grain of wheat, faith’s potential can lie dormant. Faith must be planted in our hearts and minds, in our bodies and in our guts at the core of our being. For faith to flourish, it must be cultivated, and prayer is one of the principal methods because praying shapes believing.

During this stewardship campaign, I would commend the tax-collector’s prayer to you, either in its longer form, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner,” or in its shorter form, “Lord, have mercy.” Take five minutes a day to sit down and slowly repeat these words over and over again, either silently or quietly aloud. “Lord, have mercy on me. Lord, have mercy on me. Lord, have mercy.” And when your mind wanders—and it will wander—very gently without any self-recriminations, return to the words, “Lord, have mercy.”

When we pray this simple prayer, we are stepping out in faith. For instead of trying to control God with our many words, we are putting our trust in God. When we pray this simple prayer, over time, our faith will flourish because our God is faithful and our God is good and loving and out to do us good.

Lord, have mercy upon us. Amen.

The Scriptures

RCL, Year C, Proper 25, Thematic Track

Sirach 35:12–17

Give to the Most High as he has given to you,

         and as generously as you can afford.

For the Lord is the one who repays,

         and he will repay you sevenfold.

Do not offer him a bribe, for he will not accept it

         and do not rely on a dishonest sacrifice;

for the Lord is the judge,

         and with him there is no partiality.

He will not show partiality to the poor;

         but he will listen to the prayer of one who is wronged.

He will not ignore the supplication of the orphan,

         or the widow when she pours out her complaint.

Psalm 84:1–6 (BCP 707)

    1      How dear to me is your dwelling, O Lord of hosts! *
                     My soul has a desire and longing for the courts of the Lord;
                     my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.

    2      The sparrow has found her a house and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young; *
                     by the side of your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.

    3      Happy are they who dwell in your house! *
                     they will always be praising you.

    4      Happy are the people whose strength is in you! *
                     whose hearts are set on the pilgrims’ way.

    5      Those who go through the desolate valley will find it a place of springs, *
                     for the early rains have covered it with pools of water.

    6      They will climb from height to height, *
                     and the God of gods will reveal himself in Zion.

2 Timothy 4:6–8, 16–18

I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

     At my first defense no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be counted against them! But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and save me for his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, `God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, `God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

making friends the dishonest way (or, jesus as the dishonest steward)

Year C • 18th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 20

Amos 8:4–­7 • Psalm 113 • 1 Timothy 2:1­­–7 • Luke 16:1–13 

Sermon available on YouTube by clicking here.

Sermon available as a PDF by clicking here.

(Scroll Down for the Texts of the Scriptures)

The Sermon

Happy are they who dwell in your house, [O Lord]! they will always be praising you.

(Psalm 84:3)

My Cousin, Peggy

On my first Sunday here at St. John’s, I came alone because Rebekah and the kids were visiting relatives in Texas. One day, while they were there, the family was gathered around the table. And, while they were eating, one of our cousins, Peggy, told this story.

      Earlier that year, a woman had come to her front door asking for money. Her daughter and grand-daughter had been in an auto accident, and the granddaughter was in the hospital. She needed some money for gas so that she could visit her. Peggy gave her fifty dollars for gas and food.

      A few weeks later, Peggy heard through the grape vine that this woman had gone throughout their neighborhood with this same story, and she had gotten money from a number of people. It seemed pretty clear, then, that this woman had not been telling Peggy the truth, and a member of the family chastised Peggy for being so gullible.

      Now I am sure that each one of us has either heard a story like this or experienced it firsthand. But that’s not the end of this story.

      It so happened that a month or so later this same woman reappeared at Peggy’s doorstep. Her granddaughter had passed away, and she needed money to make it to the funeral. Despite knowing that the woman’s story was most assuredly false, Peggy gave this woman another fifty dollars.

      Upon hearing this last bit, the atmosphere around the dinner table became quite animated. Peggy was asked, “Why did you give her more money?” Some said that she had been taken for a ride, that she had allowed this woman to take advantage of her. Still others expressed what they would have done differently had they been faced with the same situation.

      I wonder, had Jesus been at that table listening to Peggy’s story, what response would he have made? Would he have approved, or would he have questioned Peggy’s sanity? I wonder if today’s gospel can shed any light on this?

The Problem

Today, Jesus tells a very unusual parable, a parable about a most unscrupulous steward. The steward in question is in the process of losing his job because word has reached his master that he has been mismanaging his master’s affairs. The master gives his steward notice, but before the steward is released from his duties, he summons his masters debtors. One by one he has them sit down and rewrite their promissory notes. In some cases, their debts are twenty percent less, and in others, the debt has been cut in half. In this way, this shady steward endears himself to his master’s debtors, thus securing his future. But here is the subversive twist, instead of being furious with the steward, as one might have expected, the master actually praises the steward for his shrewdness. How very strange. But it gets stranger still. Jesus himself commends the actions of the dishonest steward to his disciples. “I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth, so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes” (Luke 16:9). What in the world are we to make of all this? What’s Jesus playing at? Are we really suppose to emulate the actions of this dishonest steward?

Jesus as the Dishonest Steward

The key to understanding this parable lies in the fact that Jesus is the steward. Yes, Jesus is the dishonest steward. How do we get there? You may recall an incident that occurred earlier in the gospel. Jesus is teaching a large crowd at his home in Capernaum, when four men lower a paralyzed man through the roof in hopes that Jesus will heal him. When Jesus sees the determination of these four faithful friends, he says to the paralytic, “Friend, your sins are forgiven you” (Luke 5:20). Upon hearing this, the scribes and Pharisees begin grumbling, “Who is this who is speaking [such] blasphemies? Who can forgiven sins, but God alone?” (Luke 5:21).

      So, what’s their problem? Don’t they believe in a loving, forgiving God? Actually, they do. They just don’t believe in Jesus. After all, sins are debts owed to God. So, who is Jesus to step in and cancel a debt that only God has the right to cancel? Who does this guy think he is? Jesus responds to their grumblings by claiming that he has been given authority by God to forgive sins on earth. He then heals the paralytic to substantiate his claim. In other words, through his words and actions, Jesus is claiming that he has been given authority over all of God’s affairs. Jesus is God’s steward.

But the scribes and the Pharisees aren’t having any of it. Jesus may have healed the paralytic, but that just proves he is in league with the devil. If Jesus is a prophet, they reason, he must be a false prophet. If he is a steward, then he is a dishonest one.

     This leads us back to the parable in today’s reading.

The Parables of Jesus

At times, Jesus’ parables are treated much like Aesop’s fables, as though they were designed to teach morals, which they rarely do. Of course, that is why we have so much trouble with today’s parable, because the moral of the story seems to be: Secure your future by whatever means possible. And that doesn’t sound particularly Christian; it certainly doesn’t sound very much like Jesus.

     At other times, we treat Jesus’ parables as though they were mere illustrations, as though they were stories designed to make difficult concepts easy to understand. In actual fact, the opposite is much closer to the truth. Jesus’ parables often cloak truths about God’s kingdom, truths that are easy to understand, but difficult to accept. This explains why Jesus so often responds to his critics with a parable. By concealing the message of the kingdom inside a presumably innocuous story, Jesus is able to smuggle the truth of the gospel past his opponents’ defenses, giving the gospel a better chance to take root in the hearts and minds of his critics, and thereby increasing the likelihood of repentance and faith. As biblical scholar N. T. Wright once observed, “If you want to change someone’s mind, (look up) don’t argue with them, tell them a story.”

The Parable of The Dishonest Steward

And that is exactly what Jesus is doing today. The scribes and Pharisees are grumbling again. Tax collectors and sinners are flocking to Jesus. In the words of singer and songwriter Rich Mullins, “the whores all love him, and the drunks propose a toast.” And Jesus just accepts it. He welcomes these people as though he makes no distinction between the sacred and the profane, between what is proper and what is not. Once again, Jesus is mismanaging God’s affairs; he claims to be a prophet, but he is merely squandering God’s love and forgiveness by lavishing it upon all manner of sinners. In the minds of the scribes and Pharisees, Jesus is a prodigal, shamefully wasting the things of God on those who are not even trying to follow God.

      And so, to open their hearts and minds to what God is doing through him, Jesus offers this parable; and what a masterful parable it is. Why? Because Jesus incorporates his opponents’ criticisms into the parable itself. His critics believe him to be squandering God’s blessings, and so he makes the central character a steward who is accused of squandering his master’s property. The actions of this dishonest steward match those of Jesus. When the steward reduces the bills of his master’s creditors, we are to recall Jesus’ practice of canceling debts of sin. When the master praises this crafty steward, we are to hear the voice of God at the Transfiguration, saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen, Listen to him!” (Luke 9:35).

      In effect, Jesus is saying to his opponents, “You may think that I am a prodigal, wasting God’s blessings, and so I am, but know this, when I am done here, my Father will welcome me back home. You may think that I am a dishonest steward, squandering God’s love and forgiveness, and so I am, but when all is said and done, my heavenly Master will vindicate me. You scribes and Pharisees are so consumed with self-righteous anger, that you are missing what God is doing to rescue and transform this world—to draw all people to himself and to reconcile all human beings to one another. You seem to think that love and forgiveness are limited goods, but not in God’s economy. There is more than enough of God’s love, and forgiveness, and acceptance to go around.”

Making Friends the Dishonest Way

But Jesus does not stop there; he goes one step further. He doesn’t just defend himself against his opponents, he gives his disciples a directive. When the parable is finished, he turns to his followers—to us, and he says to us, “I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth, so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes” (Luke 16:9). If Jesus is a dishonest steward, then it stands to reason that his disciples, who are called to follow in his footsteps, are also dishonest stewards. So what might it mean for us to “mismanage” the things of God in the way that Jesus did?

Peggy’s Story

I think the story of my cousin Peggy is one such example. Peggy knew the woman’s story wasn’t true, yet she gave her money anyway. And in that small act, Peggy manifested the love of God in a concrete, practical way. Peggy did what she felt called to do as a Christian; after all, didn’t Jesus once say, “Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again” (Luke 6:30). You see, the love of God is not something that attempts to ascertain worthiness before it acts, because the love of God is not a payment for good behavior, but a gift. The love of God only seeks to determine whether someone has a need, and most assuredly, the woman at Peggy’s door was in need. She may not have actually needed gas money, but she was in need, else she would not have been scouring the neighborhood telling stories to score some cash.

     And who knows what effect Peggy’s concrete expression of God’s love has had or will have on this woman’s life. Perhaps, when Peggy gets to heaven, she will go door to door greeting people. And perhaps one day, when she knocks, the door will open, and she will come face to face with this woman. Perhaps, this woman will invite her in, and over a cup of coffee, tell a new story, the story of how she was found by the love of Christ and how Peggy’s gifts played a role in her salvation and transformation.

And so I tell you, “make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth, so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes” (Luke 16:9).

Stories of Forgiveness

But giving money to those who don’t deserve it is not the only way in which we, as followers of Christ, can act as dishonest stewards. Being extravagant with money is not the only way we are able to squander God’s blessings, being extravagant with forgiveness also counts. This week I read a online story about a mother, Mary Johnson, who forgave the man who shot and killed her one-and-only twenty-year-old son at a party in 1993. On the day when her son’s killer, Ohsea Israel, was sentenced, Mary told him that she forgave him. She says, “At the time, I really didn’t know what forgiveness was.” It took her years of turmoil and prayer for those words to really feel true. Eventually, she visited Ohsea in prison, and during a two-hour conversation, she embraced her son’s killer. Afterward, she became hysterical. Doubled-over in shock, Mary kept repeating the phrase, “I just hugged the man that murdered my son. I just hugged the man that murdered my son.” But in those moments, she felt something leave her. All the hatred, bitterness, and animosity that she had felt for years was suddenly gone. 

     You know, when I hear people on the news, after some tragedy, publically declaring that they have forgiven the perpetrator of some heinous crime, one of the thoughts that often goes through my head is, “That’s a person who cannot cope with reality. There is some real dysfunction going on there.” This is especially true when the perpetrator has not exhibited any remorse. But of course, I am reminded that forgiveness is not a wage, but a gift; forgiveness is a gift that sets people free, not something earned through repentance. In fact, I would suggest that most of the time, genuine remorse and repentance is only possible as a response to forgiveness. Extravagant, wasteful, and indiscriminant forgiveness transforms all parties involved; victim and perpetrator alike.

     In March of 2010, Mary Johnson threw a homecoming party for Oshea following his release from prison. Mary calls Oshea her spiritual son, and he refers to her as his second mom. And they have lived next door to one another for over two years now. And I expect that he invites her over on occasion. As Jesus said, “make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth, so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes” (Luke 16:9).

You Have Permission to Be Generous in the Name of God

In all of this talk about squandering the things of God, what I hope you have heard is that you have permission to be generous. If you love lavishly, if you forgive indiscriminately, if you give generously to those that the world and even some Christians regard as undeserving, you will find that people will question you and even berate you. But know this, our God is a prodigal Father, and our Lord is a dishonest steward. So when you go forth from this place into that world rejoicing in the power of the Spirit, you have God’s permission—you have God’s authority, power, and grace—to love without limits and to serve without boundaries. 

The Scriptures

Year C • Proper 20

Amos 8:4–7

Hear this, you that trample on the needy,

         and bring to ruin the poor of the land,

saying, “When will the new moon be over

         so that we may sell grain;

and the sabbath,

         so that we may offer wheat for sale?

We will make the ephah small and the shekel great,

         and practice deceit with false balances,

buying the poor for silver

         and the needy for a pair of sandals,

         and selling the sweepings of the wheat.”

The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob:

Surely I will never forget any of their deeds.

Psalm 113  (BCP 756)

    1      Hallelujah!

            Give praise, you servants of the LORD; *

                     praise the Name of the LORD.

    2      Let the Name of the LORD be blessed, *

                     from this time forth for evermore.

    3      From the rising of the sun to its going down *

                     let the Name of the LORD be praised.

    4      The LORD is high above all nations, *

                     and his glory above the heavens.

    5      Who is like the LORD our God, who sits enthroned on high *

                     but stoops to behold the heavens and the earth?

    6      He takes up the weak out of the dust *

                     and lifts up the poor from the ashes.

    7      He sets them with the princes, *

                     with the princes of his people.

    8      He makes the woman of a childless house *

                     to be a joyful mother of children.

1 Timothy 2:1–7

First of all, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity. This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For

there is one God;

            there is also one mediator between God and humankind,

Christ Jesus, himself human,

            who gave himself a ransom for all

—this was attested at the right time. For this I was appointed a herald and an apostle (I am telling the truth, I am not lying), a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth.

Luke 16:1–13

Jesus said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. So he summoned him and said to him, `What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.’ Then the manager said to himself, `What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.’ So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, `How much do you owe my master?’ He answered, `A hundred jugs of olive oil.’ He said to him, `Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.’ Then he asked another, `And how much do you owe?’ He replied, `A hundred containers of wheat.’ He said to him, `Take your bill and make it eighty.’ And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.

     “Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”

First Sermon at St. John's Episcopal Church (Wichita, Kansas)

Delivered on Sunday, September 22nd, a.d. 2013

learning war no more: laboratories for nonviolence in the eschatological now

Year A • The First Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 2:1–5 • Psalm 122 • Romans 13:11–14 • Matthew 24:36–44
(Scroll Down for the Texts of the Scriptures)

Sermon available on YouTube by clicking here.
Sermon available as a PDF by clicking here.

The Sermon

I was glad when they said to me,“Let us go to the house of the Lord.” 

(Psalm 122:1)

Happy New Year!!!
Today is a special day. Not only is it the beginning of a new month, it is the beginning of a new season, the Season of Advent. In fact, it is also the first day of the New Church Year, so Happy New Year to you all! Now I had intended to bring along some noisemakers and party poppers, because I assume that all of you were up late last night bringing in the New Year, and so I thought that some noise might help wake you up, which is one of the major themes on this First Sunday of Advent. But alas, I was not able to make it to the store.
     Growing up, Advent was one of my favorite times of the year. For one reason, it meant that Christmas was on its way. Another reason was that loved the Advent wreath, with its three purple candles and its one pink candle, which is lit on the third Sunday in Advent instead of the fourth Sunday. As a kid always struck me as strange. What I liked about the Advent wreath was how it showed the passage of time. Back then, we used wax candles, and so the candles would shorten as the weeks of Advent passed by. Of course, the first candle was always the shortest, and as I sat in worship week after week, I would look at it and wonder whether it would have enough wax to last until midnight mass on Christmas Eve. I needn’t have worried though, for it always did. I also remember that in the little Episcopal Church of my childhood, which coincidentally was also named St. John’s, in our little parish church, we had a draft would sometimes pass right through the Advent wreath, causing the candles to burn quickly and unevenly. The wax would drip down on only one side of the candles, forming these large stalagmites—or stalactites, I can’t ever remember which is which—that we would break off after worship. Anyway, I loved the Season of Advent, the sights and sounds, the colors and the anticipation.
     That’s what Advent is all about. It is a season of anticipation, a season of preparation, a season where we eagerly await the coming of our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.

Advent • Forwards and Backwards • History and Eschatology

But, and this is very important, during the season of Advent, we are not just getting ready to meet the baby Jesus who arrived in the little town of Bethlehem some two thousand years ago. In Advent, we are also getting ready to meet the resurrected Jesus who is destined to return at some undisclosed future time—perhaps tomorrow, perhaps next year, perhaps next millennium, perhaps even before this sermon is over—Can I get an “Amen”?]. In short, Advent is about Christ’s first coming and his second coming. In the Season of Advent, we look forwards and backwards, and we do it in that order. So, today, on this First Sunday of Advent, we look not to the past but to the future, to the return of Christ.
     Why do we do this? Because as Christians, we are not only a historical people—a people who takes its identity from what God has done in the past—we are also an eschatological people. Eschatology. Well, that’s not a word you hear everyday… unless you are one of those unfortunate, hapless soles who live at my house. Now I wouldn’t say that the word, eschatology, can be heard every day in my house, but over the past twelve years, it has been heard with some regularity and frequency, mainly because it’s the first word that I have tried to get each of my kids to say when they were learning to talk. I would look at them, and say, “Eschatology. Say, eschatology. Come on. Es-cha-tol-o-gy.” Despite my valiant efforts, however, none of my children ended up choosing eschatology as their first word. Instead, they gave into peer pressure and chose “Momma,” or some other related word. Nevertheless, I am pleased to report that, before the age of two, all of my children have said something that resembled, eschatology. One of them used to say “tology,” which was good enough for me.
     So what does eschatology mean, and why is it so important? Simply put, eschatology refers to the last things. It is the counterpart to history which deals with the former things. In Christian theology, eschatology addresses such matters as the return of Christ, the final judgment, and the new creation. Eschatology is critical because, it not only tells us where we are going, it also tells us how we are going to get there. Eschatology is about what God is doing to bring about the final renewal of humanity and all of creation, and thus it is a source of hope because, if God is on the job, we can be assured that, in the end, all will be well. Eschatology is also a source of Christian identity and practice. You see, our Christian vocation—our vocation as followers of Christ—is not only shaped and informed by what Christ accomplished in his first coming, it is also shaped and informed by what Christ will accomplish in his second coming. As Christians, we have been called and equipped to participate in what God is doing in the world, and we get our cues not only from the past, but also from the future. We are a historical people; and we are an eschatological people.      In order to understand and participate in what God is doing in this world, we need light from both the past and the future to illumine our way because the world we inhabit is a dark one, fraught with sin, brokenness, and violence. When we go through those doors rejoicing in the power of the Spirit, we need to have both our eyes wide open, one eye on the past and one eye on the future. And, when we cross that street to love and serve the Lord, we need to be looking both ways, forwards and backwards, which is exactly what the Season of Advent helps us do.
     In the weeks ahead, we will make our way to Bethlehem, back to the beginning of the story when the God of all creation became a creature, a flesh-and-blood human being, Jesus of Nazareth. But today, on this first Sunday of Advent, we are headed in the opposite direction. We are looking ahead to see how the story ends, to see what things will look like when Christ returns to complete the work begun in his incarnation. We begin this new Christian year with the end in mind because the end of all things gives us a vision of where God is going and that vision empowers us to participate in what God is doing in the present.

Arise You Sleepers! Keep Awake!
Let’s take a look at our readings for today. In the Epistle and Gospel readings, we find similar directives: Arise sleepers! Keep awake! Why? Because the future—God’s future—is pressing in upon us. As Paul writes in Romans, “It is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we [first] became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us live honorably” (Rom 13:11b–13a), as though the day had already dawned. The day of salvation, the day when Jesus returns to consummate the renewal of all creation, that day is near, but it has not yet arrived. The night is nearly spent, but the darkness still lingers. Yet, we are children of the light, so we must live as such. Instead of adopting the values and practices of a rundown, sinful world, we are called to live in accordance with the values and practices that characterize life in the coming kingdom of God. Don’t give darkness the time of day, whether that darkness is in you or in the world. Instead, “put on the Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom 13:14a). Clothe yourselves with Christ. Array yourselves with the values and habits of Jesus. Live as he lived, trusting in the love of his Father and relying upon the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit.
     Turning our attention to Matthew, Jesus also speaks of end of this age and of his return as the Son of Man, which will happen at an unknown, undisclosed future time. “About that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt 24:36). As his followers, we need to keep awake and remain vigilant because we do not know when our Lord is returning. “You must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour” (Matt 24:44). But what does it mean to be ready? What does it mean to keep awake? It means to be about the Lord’s business whilst he is away. After his death and resurrection, Jesus didn’t hang around for very long. He made appearances for a period of forty days, and then he ascended into heaven. Jesus left his disciples in charge; he left us in charge. Now, Jesus has not abandoned us; and he does not expect us to fend for ourselves. Jesus has returned to the Father, yet the Holy Spirit is poured out on all who identify Jesus as Lord and Saviour that they might be equipped for the task they have been given to do, namely, the task of being about the Lord’s business until he returns.
     So, what exactly is the Lord’s business?

Isaiah — Learning War No More
Today’s reading from Isaiah gives us a clue. In the first twelve chapters of Isaiah, God’s people are indicted for their persistent sins of idolatry and injustice, for their ongoing failure and refusal to love God and neighbor. In the opening chapter of Isaiah, the Lord takes his people to court. Like a prosecuting attorney, the Lord argues his case before the heavens and the earth, who serve as judge and jury. The Lord says:

     Hear, O heavens, and listen, O earth;
          for the Lord has spoken: 

     I reared children and brought them up,
          but they have rebelled against me (Isa 1:2).

     

Yet, in the middle of this indictment, the Lord offers his people a glimmer of hope. In today’s reading from Isaiah 2, the Lord anticipates a future day when his wayward people are redeemed and they finally fulfill their vocation to be a blessing and a light to the world. In that day, the peoples of the earth will flock to Jerusalem to worship the one true God, to learn to walk in his ways. In that day, the Lord will heal all the wounds that the nations of the world have inflicted upon one another, and there will be peace—genuine, everlasting peace. As a sign of this peace, weapons of war will be transformed into farming implements. “Swords will be beaten into plowshares, and spears into pruning hooks” (Isa 2:4b). Tanks will be retrofitted as tractors, and drones will be used to seek out and rescue lost animals. “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more” (Isa 2:4b).
     It is a glorious vision, one that many people pray for, but what does it have to do with life in the here and now. Isn’t this a picture of the kingdom of God in the future? Well, yes it is. But, and this is critical, the kingdom of God envisioned here in Isaiah was inaugurated at Jesus’ first coming. It has not arrived in its fullness, but it is present now. Jesus proclaimed, “Repent for the kingdom of God is at hand.” Through the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus, the future has already been making inroads into the present. And we are called to live in light of that reality. That is eschatology.
     When the kingdom of God is consummated, when it finally arrives in all its fullness, there will be justice. The growing divide between rich and poor will be no more. The hatred and distrust that divides races and classes of people will be no more. When the kingdom arrives in its fullness, there will be peace. “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more” (2:4b). Why? Because human beings will be reconciled to God and reconciled to one another. Again, it is a glorious vision, but it is not one that remains in some far-off, distant future. If in Christ, the new creation has already dawned, then this picture of peace and justice that Isaiah presents is not something we just sit back and longingly wait for, it is something that we work for in the here and now. That is what it means to be an eschatological people; living our present lives in the light of God’s future. Our Lord and Savior is in the business of reconciliation, of creating justice through just means and of establishing peace through peaceful means. Since we have been called to be about our Lord’s business until he returns, as Christians, we too are in the business of reconciliation, the justice- and peace-making business.

A New Year’s Resolution
So what does that look like for you and me as followers of Jesus? What does it look like for us as the body of Christ? There is so much that needs to be said, so over the course of this next year, I intend to focus on these issues in my preaching. This will be a great year to do it, because it is Year A in the lectionary, which focuses on the Gospel of Matthew. And it is in Matthew that we encounter some of Jesus’ most well-known pronouncements on peaceful resistance and noncooperation with violence.

     “All who take up the sword will die by the sword” (26:52).
     “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land” (5:5).
     “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (5:44).
     “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also” (5:39).
     “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (5:9).

     Let me conclude with some personal reflections. Recently, I began reading a book entitled, The Only Alternative. It’s a book about Christian Nonviolent Peacemakers in America, people like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton. The final chapter is devoted to Kathy Kelly, with whom I was not previously familiar. Kelly offers some very valuable insights on becoming peacemakers. In an interview, she says:     I think it is very important to use, as the laboratory for nonviolence, our everyday experience. Take time to mine from that experience. What can we learn about ourselves, about our own propensity for violence? (p. 17)   
     I have been an advocate for nonviolence for about 25 years now, ever since I was introduced to it by some Quakers I met during my time at Friends University. But only in the past few years have I become aware of how much my interest in nonviolence is fueled by my intense desire to become free from what I now recognize as my own propensity for violence. King David writes in Psalm 51, “I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.” I know my propensity for violence, that is, my propensity to use anger as a way to control my environment, be it in my role as a father or as a public school teacher. Thus, for me, home and school are my principal laboratories for research on nonviolence because these are the places where I come face to face with my own limitations and my own brokenness on a daily basis. These are the places where I find it hardest to be compassionate and forgiving.
     So where are your laboratories for nonviolence? Where do you find it hardest to live compassionately in your daily life? These are the places that hold the greatest potential for our personal and collective transformation, for these are the places where Christ meets us and helps us lay aside the anger, hatred, and distrust, the fear, anxiety, and pain that contributes to violence in our world.
     Becoming aware of our own propensities for violence—be it physical, emotional, or spiritual—is part of what it means to wake up and to be about the Lord’s business until he returns. During this Season of Advent, as we prepare for Christ’s first coming and as we await his second coming, let us make a New Year’s resolution to learn war no more, but instead to learn this day what makes for peace.

     Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (Contemporary Collect for First Sunday of Advent, BCP 211).

The Scriptures

Isaiah 2:1–5
The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.

     In days to come

          the mountain of the Lord’s house

     shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
          and shall be raised above the hills;

     all the nations shall stream to it.
          Many peoples shall come and say,

     “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
          to the house of the God of Jacob;

     that he may teach us his ways
          and that we may walk in his paths.”

     For out of Zion shall go forth instruction,
          and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.

     He shall judge between the nations,
          and shall arbitrate for many peoples;

     they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
          and their spears into pruning hooks;

     nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
          neither shall they learn war any more.

     O house of Jacob,
          come, let us walk

          in the light of the Lord!

Psalm 122 (BCP 779)
1     I was glad when they said to me, *
               “Let us go to the house of the Lord.” 

2       Now our feet are standing *

               within your gates, O Jerusalem. 

3       Jerusalem is built as a city *

               that is at unity with itself; 

4       To which the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, *

               the assembly of Israel, to praise the Name of the Lord. 

5       For there are the thrones of judgment, *

               the thrones of the house of David. 

6       Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: *

               “May they prosper who love you. 

7       Peace be within your walls *

               and quietness within your towers. 

8       For my brethren and companions’ sake, *

               I pray for your prosperity. 

9       Because of the house of the Lord our God, *

               I will seek to do you good.” 

Romans 13:11–14 You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light; let us live honorably as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

Matthew 24:36–44 Jesus said to the disciples, “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

Delivered on Sunday, December 1, a.d. 2013

at St. John's Episcopal Church (Wichita, Kansas)

i am the decisive element

In 2007, I began working as a substitute teacher in the Wichita Public Schools (USD 259), and on the first day of sub-training, a presenter presented this quotation from Haim G. Ginott, which I come back to often. Truth be told, I wish I didn't have to come back to it; I wish it were so ingrained in me that it were my default position, my natural mode in dealing with people, especially my children and my students.

“I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming.”

                                ― Haim G. Ginott, Between Teacher and Child: 

A Book for Parents and Teachers

In addition to Between Teacher and Child, Ginott has a number of helpful books, another of which is entitled Between Parent and Child. You can find out more about it here: www.betweenparentandchild.com. This site which includes some links to videos of Haim and his wife, Alice, including appearances on the Merv Griffin show and the Phil Donahue show.

i shouldn't even be here

i have absolutely no business having a blog. i need to be getting my phd thesis finished because my family needs me and i need my family. i only signed up for this blog so that i could leave a post on another blog that doesnt allow anonymous posts. i should even be reading let alone leaving comments on another post. hopefully this will be my only post for a while because i really need to get my thesis finished.