Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little. Luke 7:47

When did you last bathe someone’s feet with your tears, wipe them with your hair, and anoint them with costly perfumed oil? If you’re like me, about the closest you have ever been to taking part in an act even remotely like this one is at a Maundy Thursday foot-washing service. Even that experience can make folks squirm in discomfort. This woman’s act is not something 21st century first world folk go around doing on even an occasional basis. Her actions were a radical, even offensive, act of hospitality, humility, faith, and love two millennia ago; how equally awkward and even crazy would she seem today? Because this scene is so far removed from our own cultural experience and practice, a question that must be asked is how can we make the story come alive in our worshiping communities?

Think about it…Lavish love…Big love…Extravagant love…Love fueled by the flames of an authentic and humble faith…Love emptied out for the sake of the beloved. What does it take for us today to know, to experience, and to practice such big love? How can we be equipped and moved to pour ourselves out for the sake of the gospel, for Jesus who loves us with a love bigger than life itself? Can we feel and experience the forgiveness, the mercy, and the acceptance that fuels such big love?

I don’t know. Our culture is about self-actualization, self-help, and self-indulgence. We receive myriad messages about amassing, acquiring, and acculturating as proper consumers should. Messages about emptying, about divesting, and about prodigal giving are too few and far between, even in the church. The examples and the messages are out there; they’re just quiet, almost mercurial, and certainly countercultural. Such messages make us uncomfortable, I think, because our human tendency is to compare—and find wanting—our own behavior. Therefore, we too often dismiss or even disparage examples and stories of radical giving and self-emptying. Think of how we try to domesticate and sanitize Jesus and his message. “Oh, he really didn’t mean that! Surely not!” we are tempted to rationalize. If we are pushed too far beyond our comfort zone, we like Simon and his guests in the gospel reading may also ask “Who is this who even forgives sins?” At least surely not his sins or her transgressions!

What would it take in our communities to come to Confession and Forgiveness bearing the full weight of our sin, our complicity in the pain and suffering in this world, and our utter and absolute dependence on God’s mercy and grace to draw even our next breath? How can we resist convincing ourselves that we’re pretty good folks with handy, dandy bootstraps upon which we can pull as needed? Can we risk being broken open, left vulnerable, and fully exposed in our helplessness? Or can we accept that we really are, in the words of the 70s rock band Kansas, “Dust in the wind; all we are is dust in the wind.”

Can we allow ourselves to be broken in order to be healed, to believe that in our pouring out we will be gathered into the Body of Christ and by our faith be set free? Can we allow the amazing love of Christ to fill us so that, in turn, can pour out a big and mighty love upon this thirsty world? Will we, sisters and brothers, be stewards of the gifts of God, trusting that there is indeed enough for all? Can we help heal the world with our tears, and pour out the oil of compassion on the feet of Christ made visible in our neighbors? Can we catch a glimmer of grace, hang on to a hint of hope, and empty ourselves of, well, ourselves? In Christ, all things are possible. Blessings on your transparent teaching and bold preaching–gifts of the Spirit for this hungry world.

In Worship

Consider weaving into your worship somehow the meditation prayer attributed to St. Francis. It’s a simple one:

“My God and my All! Amen.”

You could weave it into Confession and Forgiveness. You could simply stop at several points throughout the service and invite the community to pray the prayer and center themselves in God’s presence and lavish love. You could weave it into your sermon if you preach on the gospel or epistle. Invite the community to pray the prayer often during the week, to pour out the simple words as if they were washing the feet of Christ with their tears and anointing his head with costly oil. Invite them to consider that we do really NEED God to be our all, our everything, the center and core of our lives. Praying a simple prayer like this one throughout the day reminds us of that fact and helps us lean into it.

With Youth

In the movie Freaky Friday, a warring mother and daughter are put into the other one’s body to live and walk in the other one’s shoes. In the process they gain new appreciation for each other. In Paul’s letter to the disciples at Galatia, he explains that he has been “crucified with Christ” and “it is Christ who lives in me” (verses 19-20). It may sound freaky, but in our baptism we are given a new identity as Christians and Christ lives in us. Have we learned to appreciate this fact? How do we understand this idea that our lives really don’t belong to us, but that we live for and in Christ? We live by faith. We can’t “be” good enough on our own. We need the grace of Christ, but this is something the world doesn’t teach us. In fact, it runs counter to all that the world does teach. How then, can we live “cruciform” lives in a world that is most definitely not cross-shaped? How can we support one another on the journey? Invite youth to exchange prayer requests for the week and pray for each other every day–praying especially that their lives and wills will conform to the cruciform way of being–to Christ who already lives within them. Share Holy Communion together if you can. Be sure to ask for updates and responses the next time you gather together.

With Children

 Psalm 32: Forgiven and Happy!

Consider moving your children’s time to right before Confession and Forgiveness. Explain to them in simple words how we come each week to tell God we are sorry for the things we have done wrong–even for things we did wrong that we don’t realize we’ve done. Explain how the pastor is given authority to speak for God and proclaim God’s forgiveness. When we say we are sorry, God really, really forgives us. We can be happy like the psalmist is in today’s psalm. Better yet, God provides instruction about how we should live (vs. 8) so that we don’t have to stubborn like mules and guided by bits and bridles. We are forgiven, and we can be happy about it! Invite the children to dip their fingers in the font and make the sign of the cross on their foreheads. Then have them stand with you during Confession and Forgiveness and tell them their job is to say “Amen” at the end as loudly and joyfully as they can. You might even consider adding some words to tell the children go “Go, be happy, serve God and your neighbor, love and serve others, and know that God loves you! Amen.”

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June 9, 2013

You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever. – Psalm 30:11-12

I have this problem—or maybe it’s just the way I work—of getting songs stuck in my head while studying the lectionary texts. Sometimes these songs are classic hymns, their melodious meanderings through my mind usually sparked by a verse of phrase from scripture. Other times, however, a lyric will pop seemingly out of nowhere and get stuck like scratched vinyl in the synapses of my thought processes. This week it just happened to be the late 90s ditty “Tubthumping” by the recently disbanded British group Chumbawamba. Before you think I have taken complete leave of my reason and modest mental faculties, hear me out. I am convinced that music and lyrics teach us much about conveying a message concerning the nature of God, the amazing and all-encompassing good news of Jesus Christ, and the untamable ways and wiles of the Holy Spirit.

During the long green season of the lectionary year we get to talk about “church,” about what it means to be people of God and about how God works in, through, and with us in the world. For the Third Sunday after Pentecost (Lectionary 10), we have stories of dis-ease and restored health, death and life, praise and thanksgiving, and trust and faithfulness to the call of the gospel. There’s a lot of stuff going on in these brief lessons, really good stuff that gets at some of life’s toughest questions and quandaries. A preacher can “sing” many songs based on this week’s offerings.

In both Luke’s gospel and the lesson from 1 Kings, we encounter the in-your-face reality of death. Two only sons of widows have been struck down, leaving their mothers hopeless in a society and era that does not treat poor, widowed women on the margins kindly. God shows up—in the form of Jesus and in the prayerful and distraught prophet of God (Elijah)—and restores the hope of the hopeless. The sons return to life, and yes, life goes on in the land of the living, at least for now.

Psalm 30, an individual and corporate hymn of thanksgiving and praise, acknowledges this tidal wave of grief and joy, the pull of sadness and the return to gladness. It reminds me of what folks say about the weather in North Dakota: “If you don’t like it right now, hang around. It’ll change.” Life is not a smooth, linear path to ultimate success. Life is peaks and valleys, rain and stars, gravel and sand, love and ambivalence, sun and wind, bitter and sweet. Life is also the flip side of death, this thing we all face but hate to contemplate, and lessons where grieving mothers experience resurrection hope remind us that although our death is certain, it is not all. There is more, there is hope and promise experienced as resurrection, and faith is the vehicle that carries us through it all.

Galatians, Paul’s urgent message to the young community about this fragile freedom in Christ of which they are full heirs and participants, carries the cadence of death and life, bondage and freedom, destruction and hope. He is in the process of sharing his turnaround story, how he was knocked down and restored and how he now can do nothing else but share the simple story of the good news of Jesus, a pure gospel without the complications and distractions of legalism. There are no hoops, hurdles, or stumbling blocks in Paul’s proclamation to clog the way to Christ.

And this, dear friends, is where I come back to Chumbawamba’s song. Sometimes you have to tweak the word to the song to get your message across. Instead of singing, “I get knocked down, but I get up again. You’re never gonna keep me down,” I’ve tweaked the lyrics to reflect my faith: “I get knocked down; God gets me up again. This world’s never gonna keep me down.” We’re not merely “tubthumpers,” you know. We have this incredible message of hope and healing contained in fragile vessels and cracked pots. We may sing off-key and dance awkwardly, but our job is to point to the One who holds it all together, to pour out our offering of praise and thanks, to fall down seven and get up eight by the grace of God. So tell me…how will you sing of God’s goodness this Sunday? How will you proclaim the promise and hope of resurrection in the face of this world’s lies about death and destruction? What song is stuck in your head?

In Worship

We do a good job of trying to deny death in our culture. One good thing the church can do is give people safe space to talk about death, to examine their fears, and to prepare for a good death from this life to the newness of eternal life. Perhaps a good way to start is to talk about “little deaths”–events in life where we die to one way of being and doing and rise to a new way of looking at life and living. We face plenty of “little deaths” over the course of a lifetime: the loss of loved ones, the loss of a job, serious illness, moving, divorce, and the passage of old familiar ways into strange, scary new ways of being and doing. Some people will even experience the death of a congregation when a struggling worshiping community closes its doors. How can we honor these little deaths and celebrate the resurrections that follow and enable us to keep on living? How can we echo the psalmist’s words: “You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever” (Psalm 30:11-12). Invite the gathered community to share with one another some “little deaths” they may have experienced and ways they have seen resurrection at work in God’s actions in their lives and in the life of their community.

If your congregation is not comfortable with times of general sharing during the sermon, consider inviting a few people you know have experienced a little death and a mighty resurrection to share their stories. If you have simple video capability, consider recording their stories (with appropriate permissions). This could also provide a powerful witness for your website.

With Youth

Take some time to think about the story from today’s gospel reading (Luke 7:11-17). Look particularly at the last two verses and how word of Jesus spread “throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.” Think about how the word of Jesus spreads throughout your city and state today. What word is spread? Is is positive or negative? What reputation do Christians (literally “little Christs”) have in their contexts and among their friends? How are we part of bearing the good news of Jesus to our world? How difficult is it to spread good news about Jesus today?

With Children

If you have a parent of a toddler in your community who uses Twitter’s Vine app (producing looping video), ask that person to capture his or her child toddling about, falling down and getting back up. Show the video to the children on your phone, or project it for the congregation if possible. Use the Japanese proverb “fall down seven; get up eight” to talk about our faith journey is a series of falling-downs and getting-ups. We learn to walk by falling down and getting back up. The image of a human maturity is used frequently in scripture as a comparison for how we mature in faith. God’s strong arms are there to guide us and teach us, just like the parent is there to help the child get back up again. Here’s an example from YouTube: “Jasmine Trying to Walk.”

Finish with a simple prayer like this one: Dear God, thank you for giving me legs to walk, arms to balance, a heart to love, and mind to follow you. Help me to grow strong in faith, to walk in your path, and to trust that when I do fall, you are there to lift me up again. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

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