Who Gets It In the End?

Luke 21:5–19

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” 7 They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8 And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. 9 “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10 Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12 “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

I got an interesting mailing a couple weeks ago. The world is going to end on May 21st, 2011. 

One week before my wedding anniversary. 

Nice to know that the pressure’s off for buying a fitting anniversary present. 

I can’t remember seeing such a specific date for the end. I guess I just wasn’t paying attention to the right things. . . maybe took the wrong biblical exegesis classes. . . maybe paid too much attention to that “. . . about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” sort of text. Or should I say texts. I can imagine that ignoring those warnings - warnings sounded forth in Matthew, Mark and Luke - might give rise to all sorts of fun.

Back to this though.

I read a text like this, and I think to myself, “we’re doing some stewardship stuff this time of year, lets leave the lectionary for a week or so.” And this is what we’re doing. Not only that, I’m leaving town, and having someone else preach on Stewardship. 

It crosses my mind to suggest, that this text invites stewardship of the Gospel, and an assurance that rests solely on God.

“When you hear of these things, when these things take place, you will always be under my care. Do not worry. Not a hair of your head will perish.” It is interesting how apocalyptic texts are so dark dark dark, and yet hopeful.

I wonder if hope that is declared in the face of tragedy might ring more true than the hope that is declared - suggesting that one can skirt around all troubles.

I’m just glad I’m not preaching Sunday. 

Looking back three years ago, I offered this in response to a nice opening by the Vicar of Vice:

I wonder at how we see the future. 

As threat? 

As opportunity? 

As a chance to buy something really nice?

Does the Gospel invite us to speak of the future in terms of promise - calling us to a vision that is somehow different than how we tend to look at (as well as "look to") the future?

P B’ment then made a comment that makes me wish I had thought to say this; and so I will,   

I think that our talking about the apocalyptic needs to move us to ethical living. Because not a hair on our head will perish we can live self-lessly for the neighbor.

That dog, as the saying goes, will hunt.

But he’s a little bit . . . under trained . . .  and I’m just not sure I can get him into the truck, much less get out to the fields, what with all I have to do between now and then.

Did I mention that I don’t have to preach this Sunday?

I will try harder, the rest of the week, to not gloat about that fact.

Or maybe I won't.

Saints My Eye!!

Luke 6:20–31

²⁰Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
²¹"Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
²²Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. ²³Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
²⁴"But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.
²⁵"Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.
"Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.
²⁶Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
²⁷But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, ²⁸bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. ²⁹If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. ³⁰Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. ³¹Do to others as you would have them do to you.

I wonder at this All Saints Day stuff. 

Where are these Saints, anyhow? Surely not in my congregation. 

Perhaps its a bit cliche to suggest that the Saints don't always look so saintly. . . 

but still, its true.

And so, I suspect, that as much as I don't think so, I think a preacher may need to remind the hearers of their saintliness. 

They won't believe it, and frankly, many of them shouldn't.

It was interesting - in workingpreacher last week, and I think on the podcast this week, were the comments - "Preach the text, not the day." 

Well.

Shall we ignore the day?

Won't the day shape our reading?

SHOULDN'T the day shape our reading, since the sermon will take place that day? And . . . 

Perhaps I'm just crabby because the lectionary committee gives us such crummy texts for All Saints Day.

I have to admit, that right now, I can't imagine what would be better. But something must be better. 

The blessedness of the blessed lies in most unexpected places, doesn't it? Makes me think of Mary - and Luther's reflection on the Magnificat - that what God "regards" in Mary - what he looks upon when he blesses her with the calling to bear the Christ Child - is her lowliness.

It is interesting to me that we have these two festivals in succession. Reformation and All Saints. 

The blessedness is given by God. It is announced by Jesus.

That's my Reformation reading.

I don't think this is especially fitting the texts, but I can probably wedge it in.

I have 3 kids receiving their First Communion on Sunday. . . 

I'm thinking of following a preaching path in which I speak about the disciplines of piety.
I know its a bit of a dicey path. Hard to speak of things we might do, without prescribing them as necessary, or somehow meritorious - not that anyone would use the term merit today.

I think I saw Stoffregen once ask - "What is it that Christians do that is unique to them?" 

And his answer was that Christians get together weekly, and have bread and wine and know God to be present in that simple meal. We might well add that it is unique to us, that we see that something that is done for the least of these our brothers and sisters, is done for Jesus.

There might be something to that. . . that a saints day sort of festival might invite us to ask who we are, and in light of this text, where Jesus announces the poor, the hungry, the weeping, the hated, blessed, that we might speak of how this meal- this announcement - this Lord to whom we belong - shapes the lives we lead.

Not that, hearing this, my congregation will look any more saintly on November 14th when we gather again. . . 

This Confirms It - Let's Reform

John 8:31-36

Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; 32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” 33 They answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?” 34 Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. 35 The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. 36 So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

Reformation Sunday!!!

I do Confirmation on this Sunday. 

Unlike some of you, I don’t have the kids preach the sermon at their Confirmation service.

I do this because:

1. I’m afraid of what they’d say, and how it would reflect on the fact that their Confirmation instruction was supbar.

2. I don’t want to give up the center stage attention.

3. I don’t want to have to sit through whatever lame thing they’d prepare.

4. All of the above.

Here’s some stuff, based off what I blogged a couple 3 years ago for this text.

Sometimes I will read stuff by this or that guy (almost always a guy) and he will be saying something about how “the Church NEEDS to go through another reformation!”

There are often 2 things that attend that call for reformation

1. They have a specific idea of exactly how that reformation needs to take place - and the attendant wrong-ness of the Church as is.

2. They irritate the crap out of me.

I suspect that - as often as not - it is the certitude (and often self righteousness) that goes with this that annoys me.

But is there not also a part of me that wants to respond...

“We are heirs of Martin Luther! Heirs of THE Reformation! Reformation is our middle name. I don’t need a new anything, (unless it is a new pair of shoes)”

or some variation.

I’m not sure what any of that means but there ya go

One more thing. Why do a good many of the folks who talk about Christian freedom give me the willies? (not to use anyone's name in vain!)
Sort of interesting, considering our parable for last week, isn't it?

Trapped Like Mice - Rats

Luke 18:9-14

He also 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."

There are no two ways about it. 

This parable is a trap!

A trap I tell you. 

That starts with T and rhymes with C and . . . 

(time to stop this dumb line of - - - whatever. crap?)

This parable clearly is a trap. 

I think of the line by Bilbo Baggins in The Fellowship of the Ring, which, if I recall correctly, is a part of his farewell speech before he disappears from the Shire:

I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve.

It takes a while for the people to realize that this “toast” might well be an insult.

I wonder at this parable. 

Yes, it is a trap. 

I liked the work that thehardestquestion.org guy did with that aspect of it. . . 

He calls it the Parable Trap, and he asks this as the hardest question

“Is the Pharisee’s self-justification built on the Law or his comparison to others?”

yup.

Many take this text and reflect on humility. 

Capon does a nice job in his sermon, and he says, it is not about humility, rather, the Pharisee making the error of trusting in his own abilities and not trusting in God alone.

yup

All this is so. 

Yet, I have found a couple folks who address what Luke might be suggesting is central - more than others do. And that is the introductory line: Jesus  

told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt:

- And here I thought he told it so we would be more humble. 

I wonder if Luke’s introducing of the parable in this way doesn’t “double down” on the trap thing.

It seems, that in one way or another, it is possible to take a couple different wrong turns in this maze of a text.

For instance, in a pretty well done piece on this text, at goodpreacher.com, Joerg Rieger (I think - its not clear who the author is) starts by saying that “At first sight, the theological meaning of this story seems clear: do not boast about your accomplishments, admit that nobody is perfect and everything will be fine.”

But then, he says, we might ask what it might mean to confess your sin. . . and from there he goes to the connection between righteousness, justification and justice. And then he concludes that “In the end, both Pharisee and tax collector need to develop a more robust understanding of their sinfulness in order join God’s alternative justice.”

yup

But - rather than being moved to take note of the tax collector in his humanness. Rather than being moved to not hold others in contempt, we’ve gone and tried to solve all the problems of world hunger, and begun on the path to alternative forms of energy production.

I digress.

But I think that it may well be easy to follow interpretive paths that cause us to digress. . . cause us to speak of our humility - our righteousness - our justification - and to not address our desire to hold others in contempt. I suspect that Rathbun’s hardest question gets at this some. .  .

Loader - in his Australian way of spelling, says of the Pharisee, that the Pharisee, in his righteousness, and in his differentiating himself over and against the tax collector . . . 

Love of God has become separated from love of neighbour. . .

he goes on to say

The answer is not to pretend the toll collector has done no wrong, but to accept our common humanity & to know that our real value is in loving & accepting ourselves as God loves us & not upping our value by downing others. The toll collector is also a person of worth. We can forget trying to earn credit points w/ God & establishing our worth on a relative scale. When we do so we will have so much more time & space & energy for compassion, both receiving & giving it. ‘Pharisees’ need it - as much as toll collectors.

Roberta Bondi has a nice piece titled: Sin of Scorn says:

 we too live in a world of scorching, escalating, judgmental scorn - our own & others’ - that is grinding us all down to the bone. As Christians, how can we ever escape it? Perhaps we need not so much to quit bragging about our goodness & admit that we are sinners, as to give up the whole question of whether any of us are sinners. (I suspect that if I can acknowledge & learn to thank God when I am able to do something good, I will not have to demonstrate my worth to myself by despising those whose lives look very different from mine.)

"There is no other sin than that of being scornful," one of the desert Abbas used to say. As Dorotheos  [some desert Father] suggests, allowing ourselves to experience gratitude to God for the good we can do may truly provide some healing for our scornful souls.

Let me conclude by saying that it is true I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you, half as well as you deserve.

Heal Me - - - or Go Twins!!!!!

Luke 17:11-19

On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" When he saw them, he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, "Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."

I need healing

I need it badly

and why is that?

because I am a fan of the Twins

and the Twins are playing the effing Yankees.

And they have lost the first game of this five game playoff

And this inspires me to want to write lament psalms, 

and then perhaps work on some imprecatory psalms as well

and then personally recite those imprecatory psalms to the corpse of G. Steinbrenner. 

I’d rather the Twins lost to Brigham Young Junior College.

I’d rather they lost to the Duke University basketball team and coach K.  (that might be overstating it. . . )

When the Broncos made it to the Super Bowl, Pay No Toll showed a measure of resignation that was alarming. 

“They’ll find a way to lose this one too;” was his lament.

Preparing for the worst, he lowered his expectations.

Then they won. 

Which turned out to be small consolation. . . 

I need healing. . . 

I have had some pastoral conversations with some people in the last few days that cause me to wonder at how I could ever become so consumed with the little inconveniences that I face.

THEY NEED HEALING. I'd just like this little diversion to go my way.

Odd,  I truly am consumed with angst about the Twins.

I truly am caught up with an emotion towards a gol darn baseball club from some large city to the East of me.

I need healing.

This world needs healing.

If we were to receive it, would we know enough to be grateful? 

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

Luke 17:5–10

The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" The Lord replied, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, 'Come here at once and take your place at the table'? Would you not rather say to him, 'Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, 'We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!'"

Had I made an entry last week - this is what I would have titled it: Stupid is as stupid does.

Which I don't understand, but it leads to this.

In a way, can't we say that Faith is as faith does... ?

Not in a "works righteousness" sort of way of course.

But I am almost willing to walk this tight rope on this text

One also must include verse 4

“if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.”

This story compels us to take note, that God's community of faith is called to reach out with God's love. If we are not a community of forgiveness and grace, I wonder at how we can accomplish that. 

A Sad Story

Luke 16:19–31

There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 He called out, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.' 25 But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.' 27 He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house — 28 for I have five brothers — that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.' 29 Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.' 30 He said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' 31 He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

A Chasm - •A deep, steep-sided rift, gap or fissure; a gorge or abyss; A large difference between people • en.wiktionary

Dressed in purple, eating well, life is good. . . 

One thing I don’t do much, is think about the afterlife.

Is this story more than simply a tale of the great reversal?

“They’ll get theirs.” “What goes around comes around.”

Perhaps so.

I think of the Phil Collins song, Another Day in Paradise. 

In reflecting on this three years ago here on doless, we had a rich conversation, spurred by PNT noting that this parable causes a response of sadness. 

This is sad. 

Reading the parable today, I was struck by this line, 

'. . . between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.' 

Who might WANT to cross from Abraham’s bosom to the place of torment?

Only one with an abiding sense of compassion. 

Something clearly lacking in the rich man. 

He just doesn’t get it, does he?

My 7th grader came home and mentioned a song one of their teachers performed at a school assembly. “Don’t Laugh At Me.” It calls for folks not to bully one another. It has a verse that suggests that the guy with the “will work for food” sign has a back story that might make us sorry to be judgmental of him.

But - what if he’s a freeloading slug?

Same difference really. But I digress.

The song is on youtube, and many comments in the comments section below were sad. Some sadly reflecting on their experience of bullying. Some sadly wishing suffering upon those who inflict bullying, and some - so very oddly - perpetuating the bullying.

I wonder at our prosperity. It insulates us from the suffering of others, doesn’t it? Also, I suspect that we want to be insulated from that. We don’t want to know, and the better off we are, the better we can not know and the more readily we might feel some responsibility toward those in need, a responsibility that would cost us more than we care to admit.

I mention the afterlife aspect of this parable, but I doubt it is really about that. It seems that it is about compassion. The afterlife question might be helpful to understanding here, or it might be another tactic to keep at arms length the discomfort caused by the vast chasm between the rich and the poor.

We might want to posit that the rich man was especially sinful. But what if he was just too busy going to banquets to ever really be that bad? What if he was a big supporter of the Jerusalem Symphony, and he gave generously to build the new gym at the Y?

I think this is one of those weeks where another lesson bears an insight that can be key to interpretation.

They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life. I Tim 6:18-19

What life is the life that really is life? In ways, I suspect that the parable addresses this very question. The cluelessness of the rich man in Hades simply mirrors his cluelessness on earth. 

That gate that shut out Lazarus was misused. It was there, not to keep him out, but as a place from which to exercise hospitality and caring. The gates of the kingdom have been opened for you, so that from there, you might exercise hospitality, God's hospitality shown for you and for all.

And yet, there is fixed, a great chasm.

I think of the Bethel Bible Series illustration. The arms of a cross are sitting on the ground, with the bottom of the cross extending down into a gorge. Thus the cross bridges the gorge. A man is clinging to the arm of a cross, hanging there for dear life. Is it not true that this is what the cross does? The cross bridges the chasm.

The chasm between us and one another. The chasm between us and God’s own self. The chasm between righteousness and whatever it is that we are right now. The chasms that are disguised as life, and, in the end, prove to be deep traps that bring things crashing down upon us all. The chasm between life and death.

Quite a parable. Mary Hinkle Shore called this a New Testament Text of Terror. 

In the midst of these chasms - this deep thinking - there rises one like the son of man. 

Quite a parable.

Maybe it is about resurrection.

What Do You Make of This? Or What Does It Make of You?

Luke 16:1-13

Then 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. 2 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.' 3 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. 4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.' 5 So, summoning his master's debtors one by one, he asked the first, 'How much do you owe my master?' 6 He answered, 'A hundred jugs of olive oil.' He said to him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.' 7 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.' 8 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. 9 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. 10 "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. 11 If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? 12 And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? 13 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.”

You know, Oh Great DoLessHarmers, we had a pretty good discussion of this text 3 years ago on this very blog. 

smokeythebear had the opening entry; (Though I think it was just P-b-ment posing as a cuddly furry critter) and titled it Shrewd Discipleship. Smokey the Basement quoted from the Message, where Peterson uses a nice turn of phrase, to suggest that this parable invites us to “creative survival” - and to living lives that are more than just getting by “on good behavior.”

Nice.

A couple insights from the sermon brainwave podcast - 

Skinner’s deal that money is powerful, and don’t be naive about it. . . And Jacobson’s notion that this parable gives a chance to talk about money, without asking for money. He points to Mark Allan Powell’s idea that a big part of the biblical teaching about money, is how you regard money.

ok - in fact, I am beginning to think that I’m going to take their advice about that, and talk a bit about that. 

Yet - it seems to me, that one really ought to deal with the scandal here. 

This is a parable that Augustine said he couldn’t believe Jesus actually told. . . 

I don’t know where I first ran across this, but I used it in a sermon, so it must be true:

“St. Augustine said "I can't believe that this story came from the lips of our Lord." “

In one sermon I saw that used this line of Augustine’s, - a line many brilliant preachers have used - she says, toward the end:    
“I wish I could work out all the puzzles of this parable - when all is said and done, I still find it very confusing!”

Well, heck. Is that what you’re supposed to do with it? Work out all the puzzles? 

I sorta doubt it. I think this story is supposed to work on you. The quesiton is what work the Holy Spirit has in mind for you with this Word. 

. . . but I digress

In my favorite book on parables, Hear Then the Parable, Bernard Brandon Scott says that this parable unmoores us by “challenging the way justice works in the world.” He says that it “breaks the bond between power and justice. Instead it equates justice and vulverability.” (266) 

That’ll preach. 

NOT.

Sarah Dylan Breuer who blogs at sarahlaughed.net - focuses on forgiveness. 

In a sermon - I used this construct that she proposes:

Now, we might do well to take note of what kind of situation this manager is managing. 

A very very rich man enjoys his fabulous wealth far off in the city of Jerusalem. His land is being worked by the peasants, and while he’s partying in the city, he has a manager take care of his affairs out there in the country. The peasants are working land that used to belong to their grandparents. But, they lost the land in payment of some debt. Speaking of debt, things work out such that the people are paying rent that puts them further and further behind.

The landowner gets word that his manager is squandering his property, and so, he sets out to fire him. While on his way, the manager, having gotten word of this, moves quickly. He calls the farmers to come to his office, and he reduces their debts. Perhaps he even makes it possible for them to get out from under their heavy burdens. 

The people, of course, are elated. They are glad when the Steward tells them of the reduction of their debt, and grateful to him, but all the more, not knowing that the Steward is acting on his own, they are grateful to the landowner for reducing their burden. When he arrives to fire the manager, the people have gathered together to thank him for his great generosity with a grand parade!

Here’s the great rub. What can the Rich Man do? He can tell everyone that they don’t need to thank him. . . the parade is over, they still owe all that money. . . or, he can take in the honor the people have bestowed on him, thanks to the Shrewd Manager.

This is, in Jesus’ strange way, a story about forgiveness. Extravagant, dangerous, outrageous, forgiveness. Forgiveness, in fact, that might set us on edge. This is forgiveness that seems extremely cavalier, and maybe a bit crazy. The next verse tells us that the Pharisees, hearing this, ridiculed Jesus.

That - I think - WILL preach. 

I have a notion that this is one of those texts where we might want to take the time to note, that in reading scripture, the point isn’t to discern “what it means” but to engage the Word for what it does. 

What does this do to you? 

That is the question.

And what it does, as Scott suggests, is unmoores us. This is a story that betrays a downright strange inclination toward mercy. Word & World had an issue devoted to the theme; “Is Forgiveness Enough” and the opening article is by Forde. The title, I would suggest, says it all: “Is Forgiveness Enough: Reflections on an Odd Question.”

One might well suggest, that the response to Jesus after a story like this might well be - “Is there no limit to forgiveness?”

Maybe that’s the question; of this text, and of this life. . . 

Search and Rescue

Luke 15:1-10
Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." So he told them this parable: "Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. "Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents."

I saw a great story about a woman who wants to train Ravens to help with search and rescue for finding lost hikers. She was working with a Raven, hiding things, and then the Raven would find them. She was amazed that the Raven would look in places that she hadn't thought to hide the items.
Apparently Ravens have a large brain for a bird their size, and are considered quite intelligent. It crossed her mind that perhaps she could get Ravens to help in search and rescue.
Alas, she is having trouble getting funding.
Finding lost hikers isn't held in high regard, I guess. Unless you're a lost hiker.
I wonder at the point of these parables.
Is it to have us see ourselves as lost, and to know that God, the Hound of Heaven, is seeking after us? That's usually what I've preached on this text?
or
Is it to inform us of the parties in heaven? To get us to see that the party is about our being rescued?
or
Is it an invitation to see "others" rescued, and to hear an invitation to us to join in the celebration?

That’s Funny, It Doesn’t Feel Like Fall

Luke 12:13-21

Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me." But he said to him, "Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?" And he said to them, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions." Then he told them a parable: "The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God."

I liked Lose’s opening on his workingpreacher reflections: 

“Stewardship season, already?” 

Yup.

Of course, its all stewardship, yada yada yada.

I suspect there is a danger in thinking that the very basics of the walk in Christ are something beyond which we have progressed. . . 

Isn’t this about basics?

I suspect so. 

In a very complex, deep way it is.

And so is all of your life.

Though a friend of mine did not find it too helpful, I liked the comments in the blog hardesquestion.org.

Russell Rathbun - it says he's the “curator” - groovy term - maybe I’m the curator of doing less. Heck I’m the Czar of Doing Less!

I digress.

I liked his riff - not so much his hardest question, as his line before stating his hardest question: 

I have to tell the truth. I think I am the guy who reads this parable as a prophetic word for myself, but I live my life like I read this as a prophetic word for the rich other guy. I don’t want to care about the abundance of possessions, but I do.  Herein lays the hardest question in this text for me:  Can I be honest about my desire for material abundance and the security it promises?  Do I repress that desire it in the name of my “understanding” of the “correct” interpretation of the text?

Heck, that is all good, isn’t it?

I think that in part, my problem is that I CAN be honest about it - but then I avert my eyes from this sad reality. The living my life part is more where the hardest question seems to lie, isn’t it?

In Bible Study this morning, it was clear that there is an abiding temptation with a parable like this, a temptation to read it in such a way that we can see that WE ARE NOT LIKE THAT GUY. 

We hold him at arms length, and maybe grab a broom stick to get him a bit further away.

What might this text do for us AFTER we have responded in self defense?

A couple years ago, I ran across a story by Barbara Brown Taylor.

Who knows if it actually happened. Heck, who knows if I remember it correctly. . . by the time I used it in a sermon, I couldn’t find it. . . 

I remember that I prefaced my sharing of this story by saying that it wasn’t MY story, and by saying that I was hesitant to share the story. 

The way I remember, she said that in worship one Sunday, they prayed for the poor and hungry. Afterwards, a person who had been at the service. A person who was obviously poor. Went up to Barbara and said to her, something like this: “we prayed for the poor today. Why didn’t we pray for the rich? For those who have too much? For those who are drowning in stuff and ignoring God’s call to reach out with their abundance and share?” 

Youch!

I’m not sure this is fitting with this text, but maybe it is.

(It’s more fitting than the pietist move to say that we need to spend more time praying. . . )

There is so much here in these few verses. 

My friend who doesn’t like Rathbun (ok - he just didn’t find it useful this week) really appreciated Mary Hinkle Shore’s sermon. (I digress again, but I was disappointed to learn that Mary and the Norse Horse are classmates. He introduced me to her the other day and I asked her, “you had the same teachers as he did? WHAT HAPPENED?” She was too nice to answer, though she clearly understood what I was talking about. Ask the Vicar, he was there too.)

She makes the marvelous move of looking ahead ten verses to 12:32 “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  

This “give you the kingdom” is plural you. . . This gift is to the flock, not the sole sheep she says. “It is the Father’s good pleasure to give y’all the kingdom.”

How might knowing that have helped the farmer?

Heck, isn’t the more important question, how might it help me?

Yup.

ONLY ONE THING - plus maybe one more

Luke 10:38-42

Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."

I think that one direction that people clearly should NOT go, is to diss Martha. She’s had it pretty tough.

And there are plenty of so-called Martha’s who feel beat up by this text. 

Of course, many of them are sort of annoying busy-bodies, so its dang hard not to pile on.

BUT -  like the parable that precedes it, there are depths here that can take you so deep, you could get the bends when you surface....

A few preaching paths - 

I heard Anna Carter Florence give a quite humorous presentation/sermon. She really hammered on “Lord, TELL HER THEN TO HELP ME”!!!!

very funny

Among her good points - 

Arguments are best between sisters and brothers. Who better to know Mary’s propensity to dodge the work than her long suffering sister? 

Notice the complete lack of direct communication. . . 

She says: “It’s hard to serve Jesus and fight with your sister at the same time. Its hard to stay focused on what he’s done, when you’re so mad about what she HASN’T done.”

then she notes that. . . Susan Derber (I think) has this great idea - what if the next night at dinner, Mary was getting tired of sitting at Jesus’ feet? 

“Lord, it’s not fair that I’m THE ONLY ONE sitting here listening and taking notes. Tell Martha to get in here and listen too!”

Funny. 

She drives to this: That Mary “chose” her role. So did Martha, really, but now she’s whining about it. 

What if we saw our many and varied ways of serving God as a joyful choice, instead of onerous burden? 

Not a bad point. As they say - - - somewhere --- “That dog will hunt.”

I’m beginning to wonder at two things. . . 

Why is it that no one makes any comment on this aspect of Jesus’ comment (chiding) to Martha: “which will not be taken away from her."

What does that mean? Is it possibly central to the story? Maybe (probably) not. Still.

The other thing I wonder at. I forgot. . . 

heck

Oh yeah. What is that ONE THING?

The Word? Jesus' teaching?

If so, then why doesn’t Luke tell us what he taught?

Could it be love.

There’s a song for this I’m sure.

Love that will go to the Cross?

Why does Martha prepare the meal?

Hospitality? Isn’t that a sharing of love? 

Why does Mary listen? Love?

Why do we do a lot of the things we do? 

Why do people come to Church on Sunday? Loving Jesus? 

Why do people gather on a Saturday, and clean the Church yard, care for the building, build a Habitat House?

What is lost when a good part of the conversation is whining about who ISN’T there? 

Love?

It is the ONE THING, and it gets lost in a million ways. The distractions are - to use a Lukan term - Legion

and then, there is this from Culpepper, who reminds us that Jesus might have loved with a love that doesn’t love boundaries. . . .

Part of Culpepper's (Luke, New Interpreter's Bible) "Reflections" on the text page 232 

The power of these two stories consists not just in that they exemplify the great commands of 10:27 but in Jesus' choice of characters to illustrate the love of neighbor and the love of God: A Samaritan and a woman. The social codes and boundaries were clear and inflexible; a Samaritan would not be considered a model of neighborliness, and a woman would not sit w/ men around the feet of a teacher. 

In its own way, the conjunction of the stories about the good Samaritan & the female disciple voice Jesus' protest against the rules & boundaries set by the culture in which he lived. As they develop seeing & hearing as metaphors for the activity of the kingdom, the twin stories also expose the injustice of social barriers that categorize, restrict, & oppress various groups in any society (Samaritans, victims, women). To love God w/ all one's heart & one's neighbor as oneself meant then & now that one must often reject society's rules in favor of the codes of the kingdom - a society without distinctions & boundaries between its members. The rules of that society are just two - to love God & one's neighbor - but these rules are so radically different form those of the society in which we live that living by them invariably calls us to disregard all else, break the rules, & follow Jesus' example.

You want me to do WHAT? For HIM???

Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he said, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?" He answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself." And he said to him, "You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live."
But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus replied, "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, 'Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.' Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?" He said, "The one who showed him mercy." Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise." Luke 10:25–37

Who’s the forgotten man in all of this?
In some ways, it seems to me that there is a lot of talk about everyone but the traveler.
Bernard Brandon Scott suggests (this is, of course, a very cursory reading of his comments in "Hear Then the Parable) that the first hearers of this story would be listening for a hero, for one with whom they can identify. The priest and Levite would probably be regarded with a certain measure of anti-clericalism, and so there would be no problem in writing them off as not worthy of imitation. Yet, the Samaritan is ruled out as well. In listening for one with whom to identify  -  only the beaten man is left.
Interesting.
I am fairly sure that those who listen to this parable and identify with the Good Samaritan - are often - how does one say it? Not sufficiently . . . humble.
While I tire of reading sermons where they take a long detour to talk about how Jews and Samaritans did not get along, etc. etc. etc. etc. There is much there, and it may well be necessary to spend some time with this reality. This animosity is fairly central to the shock of the story. . .
I have wondered at the beaten man. Can I identify with him?
I have wondered at Jesus. “He was despised and rejected a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” Seems like the beaten man, AND the Samaritan are embodied in the one who goes to the cross.
Is this one where we are called to ste outside the story, rather than listen for ourselves here?
I doubt that, but I wonder.
On a quite different tack, I liked this sermon illustration: “A little one said to her grandpa. “Grandpa tell me a story.” “What kind of story?” the grandfather asked. “One about me.”
How is this story about me?
Who does it call me to be? Well, there was this traveler, who was beaten, hung on a cross, and left not half dead, but entirely and truly and tragically dead. He’s the one who said: "Go and do likewise."

On second thought, I think I’ll follow that other guy...

Luke 9:51-62

When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James & John saw it, they said, "Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven & consume them?" But he turned & rebuked them. Then they went on to another village. As they were going along the road, someone said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go." And Jesus said to him, "Foxes have holes, & birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." To another he said, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, first let me go & bury my father." But Jesus said to him, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go & proclaim the kingdom of God." Another said, "I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Jesus said to him, "No one who puts a hand to the plow & looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

“His face was set to go to Jerusalem.”

That seems to be the problem, doesn’t it?

Not for the Samaritans.

For us.

Then and now, we have a problem with Jesus “because his face was set toward Jerusalem.”

I want to follow, but I want to follow on my terms.

I don’t think we’ll ever know what to do with that “let the dead bury their dead” part of the story - but maybe one thing one might do would be to point out that it is there, and it does seem to get in the way of enjoying this week’s text, and maybe that’s good. 

Or at least maybe that helps get to the heart of the matter. 

I just heard an interesting story from my . . . (She’s not a barber, and I don’t have enough hair to call her a stylist.) . . . hair cutter person.

I don’t know how we got there. But she talked about some priest she knew, or met, or heard speak, who served a community in Africa. Some people came to him, asking that he care for someone who was dying.

Though he was not in the mood to do so, he walked the ten miles to their village, said last rites and all, and the man died. He turned to someone there and asked, “Was this your father?”

The answer “No.” 

“Whose father was he?” 

Nobody knew. They had found him, and did not believe he should die alone. They then took up a collection in this impoverished community to be able to bury him properly.

Let the living care for those they don’t even know.

"I will follow you wherever you go."

“His face was set to go to Jerusalem.”

We’re off to the cross. May God grant us the grace to carry that burden.

Dead Man Talking

Luke 7:11-17                                                                                                       Soon afterwards [Jesus] went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother.  Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has risen among us!” and “God has looked favorably on his people!” This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.  

Not preaching on this text on Sunday - but I will have to work with it a bit this week. 

I like this line, which I probably stole from somebody - one of you? I used it to open a sermon on this text a few years ago. . . 

"Tell me, do you think that Jesus raised this young man from the dead so that he could go on with the same old life?"

A good question. 
I wonder at what the dead man talked about. . . certainly not being dead. Certainly not about how being dead wasn't that bad. . . 
I do wonder though.

I closed the sermon with another good question. . . 

"So, tell me what you think.  Did Christ raise you from the dead so that you could live the same old life?  No, that really isn't possible, is it?"

to that we might say “amen”

It's Way Over Your Head

John 16:12-15

"I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.”

I like Trinity Sunday. 

Maybe this is the most fitting time to read from the Gospel of John. A bit murky. Sorta hard to understand. 

Kinda like God.

Willimon - in some of his latest podcasts - has some lectures he must have given to some Methodist colleagues. They are titled: God Talk Preaching.

They include a number of stories he uses over and over. Good stories, worth hearing a number of times. He likes to refer to Robert Jenson, who says that the way you can tell that you are in the presence of a living God is that this God surprises. A dead god is totally predictable. Nice.

At a text study group the other day. A good bit of the conversation was looking at how awesome creation is. 

True, God is pretty awesome. Space is pretty big. We’re quite small. YET, that great God does love us, does condescend to reach out to us. 

I thought of the Monty Python bit, where the monk is praying: “O God, you are so huge. So incredibly large. We’re all right impressed down here.”

Talk of the magnitude of creation can be pretty interesting. (Ever see the videos “The Blue Planet”? AWESOME!) Yet, there will not be a lot of Gospel there. 

I thought of this quote while sitting at this text study:

God is in all things, in the stone, in the fire, in the water, and in the rope, but he wants us to seek him only in the Word, which is clear and plain. Luther Sermon on the Sacraments, paraphrased in Wingren, Luther on Vocation p 122

"I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth...”

We might wonder at  how the Spirit might guide you into all the truth. Might this guiding be a bit like believing itself? Willimon makes the point that he has preached on Jesus’ call “follow me.” The fitting questions are: “what are you about?” “Why should I follow you?” But those questions aren’t asked. Faith seems to be lived in a backwards order. One learns who Jesus is by following. Perhaps the teaching the Holy Spirit will do will be lived out in a backwards order. You will learn about this one with whom you live, by living with this one in the community the Holy Spirit calls together.

I think of a quote the Norse Horse will often share with us; suggesting that for Luther:

the only dis-embodied spirit is the devil.

Indeed.

May our preaching of the Holy Trinity be embodied by the one in whom we live and move and have our being.

Quite "Gifted"

John 14:8-27

Philip said to him, "Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied." Jesus said to him, "Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it. "If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you. "I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

Pentecost. 

John.

Talk about a double whammy. 

In the conversation on Sermon Brainwave, something was said that caused me to think a bit differently about the gift of the Spirit. 

So often, I find myself doing one of two things with Holy Spirit “gift” talk. 

One: I try (in one of the many odd conversations in my head) to argue with the charismatics who see the gift of the Holy Spirit as an ability to speak in tongues - or some other such manifestation of a spiritual gift. 

Two: I try to construe the gifts of the Spirit that we are given in more everyday sorts of ways. The gift of faith, the gift of love borne to the lives of those in need, the gift of a community of forgiveness and hope. . .

The sermon brainwave comments (which, upon listening again I don’t see how or why) made me begin to look at the gift of the Spirit in a different light. 

They made me consider how this gift God has given - is not so much for me to have the gift - but for God to love the world.

It made me think of a sermon by Willimon, titled:  “One Day God Will Finally Get What God Wants.” Willimon, preaching on Revelation 5 says that 

“Heaven is that time - that place - that set of arrangements - where God gets what God wants.”

Might that offer a more “fruitful” path for Holy Spirit talk than the odd conversations in my head?

The Spirit is given.

Where do you go from here?

And who will accompany you, and how will that accompaniment be manifested?

Help!

Or, to be more Markan: “I believe; help my unbelief!”

One is the Loneliest Number

John 17:20-26

"I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. "Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them."

Mary Hinkle Shore connects this prayer with the prayer at Gethsemane (in the synoptics) when  the disciples fell asleep. Reading this prayer, I find it hard to criticize the disciples so much.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

It is interesting, that in some of the reading I’ve done on this text, folks have not really addressed the “oneness” thing. 

How do you not? 

What else could this text be about?

Granted, I don’t understand it. 

But that sure seems to be what it is about.

One who seems not to speak about oneness is Mary Hinkle Shore in Workingpreacher writes: 

How do you feel when someone prays out loud for you? When I asked a few friends this question, these words surfaced: comforted, vulnerable, grateful, honored, humbled, awkward but appreciative, like someone really cares. Maybe one of the reasons it is so easy to turn John 17 into a "to do" list for the church is that such a list is easier to manage than such an experience as intimate as being the subject of another's prayer. . .

Not bad, eh? 

That made me think about the people who won’t let the congregation pray for them, won’t let their weaknesses (or those of family members) be mentioned in the announcements. . . 

Still, I have his nagging feeling that the text is about oneness. 

What is it about the Gospel of John that sends one off, waxing poetic?

That is, people other than me. . . 

Some excerpts from some good comments by William Loader

It was not that Jesus came offering new information. Rather his life is to be seen as an offer of relationship, a hand stretched out from God. 17:23 ensures we do not miss the essential ingredient: the relationship is not any kind of relationship; it is one characterised by love.

. . . Unity is not an extra; it is the essence of what it means to be Christian. The key words like reconciliation, atonement, assume its centrality. Did John imagine uniformity? It is striking that the gospel depicts considerable diversity in responses to Jesus. 

. . . Oneness in sharing God’s life as love is a broad and inclusive platform upon which many can stand and which can tolerate great diversity. There is no place for hate, prejudice, writing people off. . .  John’s style of theology gives support to a generous theology.

Also not bad. But, I’m not sure what to do with it. 

In this prayer, Jesus asks the impossible. Could there be some insight in this very fact? Some insight for preaching? A sort “aim high” thing? I don’t mean that sardonically. I mean to ask whether there is something to the fact that Jesus asks for this which Jesus might well have known would not - could not - be realized this side of glory?

For all my whining about the Gospel of John, I suspect that there is some good stuff to be said from here. . . 

any ideas for good direction?

It Passes Understanding

John 14:23-29

Jesus answered him, "Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words; and the word that you hear is not mine, but is from the Father who sent me. "I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. You heard me say to you, ‘I am going away, and I am coming to you.’ If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I. And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.

John again?

I thought we had a new lectionary.

And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.

OK I’m not even going to try to understand that one. . . 

How about the rest of this pericope. . . 

We are, of course, among those who love Jesus.

And, we are loved by the Father. 

Does this passage say that our being loved by the Father is dependent upon our keeping Jesus’ word? 

Hmmm

Of course, we want to have Jesus and the Father make their home with us. . . 

And, we need the Advocate to teach us everything and to remind us of all that Jesus has said to us. . .

Now, help me here, what did he say?

Is that the question when dealing with this text?

Again. Thought we had a new lectionary.

Given that my New Church (Never Admit Limitations Church) has been so slow in this matter, I guess we’re dealing with John 14 this time around.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.“

When engaging this lesson from John 14, I always conclude that the most fruitful question here is to wonder how it is that the world gives, and how it is that Jesus gives differently.

It is in our DNA to suspect that the difference might best be discerned by looking to the cross. 

. . . 

Speaking of peace, David Lose had some nice comments in his - now seemingly weekly - column “Dear Working Preacher”

. . . [Jesus] promises peace – not merely the cessation of disturbance but instead a confident expectation and hope about the future.

With that, I wish you peace.