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Sermon transcript for February 17, 2013

Free Lunches, Power Trips, Quick Fixes
Luke 4:1-1-13    First Sunday in Lent
Belmont UMC—February 17, 2013
Ken Edwards, preaching

One of my favorite movies is the 2000 film, Chocolat, based on the novel by the same name (writer, Joanne Harris). Chocolat tells the story of a young mother, Vianne, who arrives in a repressed French village with her six year old daughter and opens a Chocolaterie. The village is a very serious little place under the leadership of a severe and unhappy mayor,    whose countenance is reflected in the faces of the people. The cinematographer does a wonderful job of capturing the environment of the town in the use of monotones of gray and brown. Vianne arrives with her daughter, both wearing bright red capes, in contrast to the town and we know immediately that something is about to happen.

The time is the beginning of Lent and Vianne opens her chocolaterie across the street from the church. Beautiful, mysterious chocolates begin to adorn the front window of her shop and the contrast between the chocolates and the town’s Lenten observance is stunning. One by one Vianne wins over the people of the village with her happy and gregarious personality. The conflicts between Vianne and Mayor Renaud grow more intense throughout the movie until she decides to move on to another place. A group of townspeople come to encourage her to stay and each has a story of how she has changed their lives.

At the end of the movie the staunch Mayor breaks into the chocolaterie on the day before Easter and destroys the beautiful display of chocolates in the window. But to his surprise, a small piece of the chocolate drops on his lip and he gives in to the seduction, devours the chocolate, collapses in tears and falls asleep in the window. Vianne finds him there the next morning and agrees to keep his secret, vows to stay and live in the small town that has been transformed by her presence.

I have told a story that has made the first week of Lent more difficult for those who have given up chocolate for the season. Lent is about our identity, not our ability to resist chocolate for 40 days. Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness defines Jesus’ identity as the son of God, as the one who will not take the easy path in this life, the one whose power is centered in servanthood, not aggrandizement. Jesus spent 40 days of reflection and preparation for what his future would hold.

“The devil said to him, ‘Since you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” (v. 3) In the wilderness Jesus is tempted to make bread from a stone, but Jesus has come to the wilderness to fast. Fasting is not designed to starve a person, but to feed the soul, to make space in the soul for God. During Lent fasting is not only about giving up food in the spiritual discipline of fasting but replacing the time spent in eating and meal preparation with prayer and meditation. It would be easy for the man who can turn water into wine to make bread out of stones, but we do not live by bread alone. We have spiritual needs and spiritual hungers and fasting would prepare Jesus for the difficult days ahead. As fasting would prepare Jesus for the difficult days ahead, so it prepares us as well.

When I was in seminary, the spiritual life department proclaimed a day of prayer and fasting during Lent. Posters had gone up all over campus calling students and faculty to participate. We all knew about it but we were too busy learning how to be pastors to attend to such spiritual disciplines.

The day of the fast arrived and at lunch time we lined up at the only place on campus for food, the cafeteria. Instead of the usual two lines, only one line was open and the line was long. I still recall the look on the face of the cafeteria manager as he walked up and down the line, wringing his hands and saying, “I thought you were supposed to be fasting today. We did not prepare enough food. Why are you here?”

Chances are we won’t be fasting this Lent, because we won’t understand the value in it. We are so accustomed to satisfying every hunger, every hint of loneliness and isolation, every moment of silence, with something, anything that prevents us from being alone with ourselves and our feelings.

Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us that the empty space within us belongs to God and the simplest definition of addiction is anything we use to fill that space other than God. She writes, “The hollowness we sometimes feel is not a sign of something gone wrong. It is the holy of holies inside of us, the uncluttered throne room of the Lord our God. Nothing on earth can fill it, but that does not stop us from trying. Whenever we start feeling too empty inside, we stick our pacifiers in our mouths and suck for all we are worth. They do not nourish us, but at least they plug the hole. To enter the wilderness is to leave them behind.” She invites us to live with the emptiness for a bit and see what we find out. It’s possible that the emptiness of fasting will remind us to make room for the God who calls us children of God and who loves us with all God’s being. (Home by Another Way, p. 67)

From a high place where he could see all the kingdoms of the world, the devil said, “I will give you this whole domain and the glory of all these kingdoms.” (v.5) Jesus is tempted with power, but being prepared to follow God’s plan meant learning that power is found in servanthood, not in self-serving displays. Jesus shunned the flashy, attention getting events. He would heal people and instruct them to tell no one. On the way to Jerusalem two of his disciples would ask him if they might sit on his left and his right in his coming kingdom. He scolded them, saying, “You do not know what you are asking.”

Jesus criticized those who lord power over others and taught that the mission of our lives in serving others, not ourselves. Jesus came as a servant, not a political leader or conquering hero. Consequently, many rejected him. But he came to teach us that there is no place for power trips in the kingdom of God.

The forty days of Lent prepares us to be God’s servants, calling us away from the temptation of the world to rise to the top, stepping on others on the way up. There are no ladders of success in the kingdom and we have 40 days to come to terms with this reality.

“Do whatever you want, and God will protect you.” the devil said. (v. 9) I’ve known folks who believed that. Jesus did not come to be protected; he had come with a mission. He came to show us what God is like and to do that he had to suffer and he continues to suffer with us when we are wounded by the realities of this world.

We want the God of the quick fix. We want a God who will always protect us from the hurts and pains we might experience. We want a God who will give us pat answers to all our questions and we want all of this now, right now. We know from human experience that it doesn’t work that way. We will all experience suffering, loss, defeat, sadness, disappointment, and failure. And we need to be prepared.

The people I have known who have spent significant time alone with God, in prayer, in study, in reflection are those who are better prepared to live victoriously and hopefully everyday, in spite of what they face. Because the Jesus who said “no” to the devil in the wilderness is the Jesus who says “yes” to us when we are suffering and he comes along side of us and gives us courage, comfort and hope.

You have heard this quote from Frederick Buechner before, but here it is one more time. “After being baptized by John in the River Jordan, Jesus went off alone into the wilderness where he spent forty days asking himself the question what it meant to be Jesus. During Lent, Christians are supposed to ask one way or another what it means to be themselves.”

It means more than giving up chocolate for 40 days. It can be a little frightening like looking in the mirror first thing in the morning, before we’ve had time to comb our pillow hair and put on our make up. It’s frightening because who we see is who we are. It means bringing all we are to the wilderness, all our baggage, all our painful memories, our broken hearts, our history of failure, and our weird idiosyncrasies. We come to allow our emptiness to speak to us of God and hope and identity.

This is a process and there are no quick fixes to our humanness. It takes time but with Christ, everyday, we can learn and grow and find our way, our identity as the children of God.

REFLECTIVE QUESTION: Today I want you to capture in your mind one person, one person who typifies the servant ministry of Jesus, one person who has been to the wilderness and come back again, changed. Ask yourself, how can this person’s life example lead me on this journey of Lent?


Sermon transcript for February 10, 2013

Retreat or Encounter
Luke 9:28-26--The Transfiguration
Belmont UMC—February 10, 2013
Ken Edwards, preaching

One of my most unusual pastoral calls was to a man named Eugene. This was in my first appointment as a pastor. Eugene’s wife, Lilly, had stopped by the parsonage one afternoon to ask me to visit him. When I asked what was going on, she replied, “It’s too stupid for me to explain, but I’m really angry with him.” The next day I drove to the farmhouse where Eugene and Lilly lived. Eugene was on the front porch and he did not seem happy to see me. I told him about Lilly’s visit and request. Eugene said, “She’s mad because I won’t go back to church. I have no place to sit since you removed my post.”

Years before someone had decided that the sanctuary was structurally unsound so a large support post had been added to the center of the room. We had some restoration work done on the building and new roof supports added, so there was no need for the unsightly post. Eugene sat behind the post every Sunday and as soon as the sermon started he would go to sleep. Lilly had joined the choir and was no longer sitting next to him to nudge or elbow him to wake up. He thought he was hiding but even I could see him sleeping. Everyone in the small church knew he slept through the sermon. I assured him that his sleeping did not bother me but I did want him to come back to church and make Lilly happy. He did come back, the marital crisis was averted, and all was well.

It is okay to fall asleep during the sermon. I’m told that my voice puts babies to sleep and I should provide CD’s for all new parents (and maybe insomnia sufferers as well). I heard that if you were to take all the people who fall asleep in church on any given Sunday and lay them end to end, they would be a lot more comfortable. Thanks for enduring that old joke.

The text today is the Transfiguration Story, which always ends the season of Epiphany. Jesus took the inner circle of disciples, Peter, James and John, up on a mountain to pray and there Jesus’ appearance was changed—his clothes were white like lightening and Elijah and Moses appeared with him. Luke adds this detail: “the disciples were weighed down with sleep” (NRSV) or “almost overcome by sleep” (CEB) but they managed to stay awake and experience Jesus’ glory. Have ever tried to stay awake when you were very sleepy? We can almost imagine the disciples about to drift off when this event happened and startled them fully awake.

Luke notes that the same disciples fell asleep when Jesus prayed in Gethsemane and had asked the disciples to pray with him. “Pray that you won’t be overcome by temptation.” But they fell asleep and Luke notes that they slept because they were overcome by grief. Jesus asked them, “Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you won’t be overcome by temptation.” (22:39-46)

There is a recurring theme in scripture when the people of God are called on to stay awake, stay alert, and listen. From the words of Isaiah, “Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord, Awake. . .” (51:9) And the stories of Jesus’ baptism and transfiguration where we hear a voice announcing, “This is my son,  listen to him.”
Or the words in the Book of Revelation to the churches, “Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.” (3:13)

Why does this theme of paying attention recur in scripture? Because the church’s vitality depends on the church’s willingness to hear God’s call and follow. And because we believe that God continues to reveal God’s self to us and we must always be in the posture of listening and receiving God’s revelation. Our ability to be God’s people and to live as Christ’s followers hinges on how awake and alert we are to the call of God on our lives.

Several years back I read an essay in which the writer (now unknown to me) referred to the modern church as the somnambulistic church, or the sleepwalking church. He noted that the modern church is like someone who walks in her sleep, going through what appear to be normal motions but not really paying attention or remembering what she is doing. (We have a child who is a sleepwalker and it is fascinating and a bit disconcerting to see him do this.) The sleepwalking church is the church that is going through the motions. Rituals, deep in meaning, are reduced to meaningless and repetitive exercises. The church is not fully alert to God and what God is saying and where God is leading. The sleepwalking church becomes irrelevant and is on the road to decline.

As a church we are in a season of prayer and discernment so that we might posture our selves to be fully alert to hear God’s voice guiding us for the journey ahead of us. This is an exciting time in the life of our church, but it can also be an anxious time because of uncertainty. We may feel the tension that comes from upsetting the status quo. We ask, “Where do we see God at work? Where do we hear God’s call?” Those questions come with risks. Those questions can lead us to transformation and our tendency is to resist transformation.

Simone Weil wrote, “Absolute attention is prayer.” Prayer allows us to attend to the gentle, grace filled leading of God.

I mentioned Alan Storey last week. Alan is the pastor of Central Methodist Mission in Cape Town, South Africa. Our mission team spent an hour or so with Alan when we were in Cape Town in 2009. When Alan was younger he had to decide if he would resist the draft to serve in an army that supported the apartheid government of South Africa. He went to Australia to work as a laborer and to spend a year in intentional and prayerful discernment. He returned to South Africa declaring he would never fight in the apartheid army or any army. He was arrested and put on trial, with a six year prison term the likely outcome. The trial was abandoned midway for unknown reasons. Alan went to the court but no one showed up to prosecute him. Alan’s courage meant that he was the last conscientious objector to be put on trial in South Africa. The year after Alan’s arrest 30,000 young men were drafted but only a third of them showed up to serve. His willingness to follow Christ was a factor in ending this oppressive government system.

During this Black History month we are reminded of the courageous faithful who heard God’s call and at great risk led our nation out of the grip of racism and toward God’s dream for a better and more just world. Like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. hearing Jesus’ voice late one night, sitting alone in his kitchen and pondering a threatening phone call. He said, “I heard the voice of Jesus saying, still to fight on, still to fight on.”

The church Eugene and Lilly attended was built in 1840 and had solid brick walls. The bricks had been made on the property by slaves. One of the older men in the church told me that when he was a boy one could still find finger prints of the slaves molded into the bricks. I thought about those slaves, building a church in which they would never be welcomed. Even in 1840 some courageous Christians were listening to God and God was speaking words of human dignity and liberation!  

We are not the same church we were when I was born in 1952. We are not the same church because the discerning faithful have been courageous enough to listen to God. In 1952 women could not be ordained in the Methodist Church. In 1952 blacks and whites served in separate conferences in the Methodist Church. But God spoke to the church and some were listening. We have a long way to go to end racism and sexism in our country and in the United Methodist Church. And I believe God still has a word for us that we need to hear.

The transfiguration story is one of those mystical stories and it’s difficult for us to wrap our minds around it. The disciples saw Jesus transformed, standing with these heroic figures in Jewish history, figures that represented the law and the prophets. Peter’s response is typically impulsive as he suggests that they build three shrines, one for Jesus, one for Moses and one for Elijah. Then they were enfolded in a thick cloud and filled with awe. A voice from heaven was heard, a voice that silenced the impulsive and talkative Peter, “This is my Son, my chosen one, listen to him.” The voice seemed to be saying, “Peter, stop talking and listen. Peter, pay attention to what is happening here.”

This event was not meant for Jesus but for the disciples. It was meant for the early church, and it was meant for us at Belmont. It calls our attention to the identity of Jesus and invites us to align our lives with his. It reminds us that we are not on our journey; we are on the Jesus journey. It reminds us that we are not called to build shrines to the status quo, but to posture our lives so that we can be fully awake, fully alert, to listen and to hear where God is calling us. It reminds us of God’s grace, because even when we are almost overcome with sleep, even when we are reluctant or fearful of change, God can and will break into our lives and get our attention.

Belmont, God is calling us to do great things. Will we listen and hear? Will we have the courage to follow?


Sermon transcript for February 3, 2013

The Greatest of These
1 Corinthians 13:1-13
Belmont UMC—February 3, 2013
Ken Edwards, preaching

It is said that “familiarity breeds contempt,” but if that were true then we would approach these words of Paul with contempt. Instead we hear them over and over again. They make us smile as we read them at weddings, funerals, or simply sitting quietly during our morning devotional time. They warm our hearts and we greet them gladly.
But these words are meant for much more. Paul wrote these words so that they would change our lives. So let’s look at them again this morning but let’s look at them with a new and transformed way of seeing them.

We will need some context for this spiritual exercise. A number of years back Kathryn and I went to a local restaurant at the end of a busy Sunday schedule. We would order coffees and something simple and talk about the day and plan for the week ahead. As we sat there we noticed our District Superintendent walk into the restaurant. He did not see us and he took a seat on the other side of the room from us. He ordered something and then he put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. It was obvious to us that he was tired or troubled.

As we were leaving we walked over to his table to greet him and we asked if he was okay. He invited us to sit down. He told us about the church from which he had just returned. The church members were in a feud with each other and as I recall the feud was over the color of the new sanctuary carpet. A special meeting had been called and he had been invited in to convene the meeting. There had been a pot luck meal before the meeting and one group set their food up on one side of the fellowship hall and the other group set their food up on the other. They sat on opposite sides from one another during the meeting, a meeting that was contentious and hateful and no resolution to the carpet dilemma had been found. Paul is writing to a church that has similar problems and Paul documents their divisiveness in the opening chapters of this letter. “I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food. Even now you are not ready. . . For as long as there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not of the flesh, behaving according to human inclinations.” (3:1-3 NRSV) We need to remember that when reading 1 Corinthians 13.

The other contextual piece I want to mention is the preceding chapter. Chapter 12 was a Lectionary option over the last two Sundays and we did not read it, but we have to visit that chapter to fully understand the transformational nature of 1 Corinthians 13. In this chapter Paul uses the metaphor of the human body for the church. The human body has many parts, many different parts that work in concert with each other and dependency on each other. He is saying that the human body needs diversity and unity or it will not survive. He is saying that the church needs diversity and unity or it will not survive. Since unity/diversity has emerged as a major theme in our ongoing discernment process we need to hear this, remember it and we come back to it again.

In the words of Reverend Alan Storey (from his sermon, “Unity and Diversity”) of South Africa, I was reminded this week that Paul took the prevailing philosophy and turned it upside down. Aristotle and other philosophers had used the body as a metaphor as well, but they used it to describe how societies work. The prevailing sociological viewpoint was that there were different roles for different persons in society. Some were more significant and important; some less significant. That was a natural order of society and those that were less significant should not complain but accept their position. This worked out well for the privileged few. Alan noted that he was raised in a country that told him he was more significant than others because of the color of his skin. So was I.

But listen to what Paul writes, “On the contrary, the members that seem to be weaker are indispensable (we can’t live without them), and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect.” (verses 22-25) He goes on to say that we need each other and “if any one member suffers, we all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.” (v. 26) Do we hear how counter-cultural this was and is even now?

And then Paul writes one of the most startling sentences in the New Testament. It is this, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.” (v. 27) He didn’t write, “You will be the body of Christ someday.” He said, “You are it.” The church at Corinth, with its jealousies and quarreling and new Flamingo colored carpet in the sanctuary, is the body of Christ? And Paul is speaking to us across the centuries, “Belmont, you are the body of Christ!” You are the present and visible reality of the risen Christ for this world. That’s a tall order for the church at Corinth and it raises the bar for us as well. We are the body of Christ!

The 12th ends with these words, “And I will show you a still more excellent way.” And we see why the chapter and verse designations do a disservice to this passage because it flows naturally into the 13th chapter. The more excellent way is the way of love. If we are to be the body of Christ we must embody the love of God. To embody the love of God is to embody the very nature of God’s self.

Paul notes that we can have the gift to speak in angelic languages, prophesy until the cows come home, have faith to move mountains, and even become a martyr for the faith, but if we do have the love of God in us, we have nothing, we gain nothing. Because it’s not about us; it is always about God and God is the source of everything good that happens in the body of Christ. We have nothing apart from God and we have nothing apart from God’s love.

Paul describes love this way: “Love is patient and kind. Love is not envious, or boastful, or arrogant, or rude. Love does not insist on its own way. Love is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

I have said before that years ago a friend said that the test of our embodiment of this love is rewriting these phrases and putting our name in the place of the word “love.” So it reads, Ken is patient and kind. Ken is not envious, or boastful, or arrogant, or rude. Ken does not insist on his own way. Ken is not irritable or resentful.” Do the words ring true? Do they ring true to my wife, my children, my close friends? Hearing it that way leads me to the altar of confession. Is it possible for me to love this way? Probably not on my own, but it is possible with God. And God can lead us to these new depths of love.

So this morning, as we consider these texts and as we prepare to come here to this table of unity and diversity, and to kneel or stand at this chancel, we may want to bring something with us, something we need to leave here. Maybe we’ll leave our jealousies, our resentments, our arrogance, or our insistence on having our way, and may as we feed on the food of this table, may it fill us with God’s love so that we can be the body of Christ for the world.


Sermon transcript for January 27, 2013

Jesus’ Mission Statement
Luke 4:14-21
Belmont UMC—January 27, 2013
Ken Edwards, preaching

Preaching is very much a part of the rhythm of my life. I preach a sermon on Sunday and walk to the narthex at the end of the service to greet worshippers and I’m often thinking, “What am I preaching next week?” I plan sermons ahead of time and they are often being written in my thoughts before they make it into the computer and into a manuscript. I’ve made some people happy with my preaching and I’ve made some people less than happy with my preaching. One never knows how a sermon will be received. Be patient with me; I’m still learning to do this work.

I recall a powerful sermon by our friend, Bishop Ken Carder. It was at the ordination service at Annual Conference. He spoke the truth in love to all of us who are clergy and some of what he said was difficult to hear. But I respected him for telling the truth and being courageous. I went to him after the service to thank him for his prophetic words and he said, “Oh Ken, I fear that I was too harsh. I’m already regretting that sermon.” I tried to reassure him but he was not convinced.

Some of you have heard me say that preaching seems unfair at times because the listener is at a disadvantage. In a teaching session there is opportunity for feedback but in the context of worship that does not happen. I recall a sermon I preached at my last church at the beginning of the Iraq War, a sermon that I anticipated would create some tension. I prepared them for that by inviting their feedback via email and sure enough, I received some interesting and helpful feedback on Sunday afternoon.

In our Gospel text today Jesus returned to the synagogue in his hometown of Nazareth. Nazareth was a town that suffered from low self-esteem, hence the question, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Jesus was the hometown boy, son of Joseph and Mary. They knew him and they had watched him grow up, playing with other kids in the neighborhood, and it’s likely that they have heard of his miracles in Capernaum. They needed him to do something spectacular and put them on the map.

In the synagogue he read a familiar passage from Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He sent me to proclaim release to the captives and sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” So far so good—other rabbis read this passage. Then he said a peculiar thing, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

The story is divided into two weeks of lectionary readings but we aren’t sure why. But if we read on we hear Jesus remind them of Bible stories, stories from familiar Hebrew texts, but the stories are about God’s blessing and favor shown toward Gentiles—a widow in Zarephath and the Syrian leader, Naaman. These were outsider stories and this was not the sermon the people of Nazareth wanted to hear. “Who does he think he is?” they asked. Things got a little out of hand and violent and they took him to the edge of town and threatened to throw him off a cliff, but he escaped.  

In this text from Luke Jesus describes his mission and his purpose. Fred Craddock notes, “Luke places the Nazareth visit first because it is first, not chronologically but programmatically. That is to say that this event is to announce who Jesus is, of what his ministry consists, what his church will be and do, and what will be the response to both Jesus and the church.” (Luke, p. 61)

Jesus’ mission is clear. Jesus, with the anointing of God’s Spirit, announces his mission is to bring good news to the poor, like a widow whose only son has died or a woman who spent all her money on trying to get well. Jesus’ ministry is to bring release to the captives, like a man held prisoner by a demon or the man who has been paralyzed for years. Jesus seeks to set free those who are captive to tragedy and difficult life circumstances. Jesus’ mission involves helping those who are blind, like Bartimaeus on the road to Jericho, crying out to Jesus for deliverance and like those who are spiritually unable to see God’s will. Jesus’ mission is to bring freedom to the oppressed like a woman about to be stoned to death by a group of self-righteous men.

I suspect that Jesus’ words in Nazareth were troubling to the people because he said, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” We like the text because it contains good thoughts but we like to think of it as something distant from us, something that will happen in the future. We are not comfortable with it being the present reality. Here it is upon us now! That can seem threatening to our status quo.

But dear friends in faith, if this was Jesus’ mission, then it’s our mission as well and we must embrace it. Luke tells us that the Spirit was upon Jesus, giving him this mission. And later in Acts Luke will tell us that the Spirit is upon us, the church, empowering us to be witnesses in every part of the world. And this is our witness: we will be the people who bring good news to the poor like the homeless neighbor or the working poor who run out of money before the end of each month; release to the captives like those who are fearful, addicted or trapped in abusive relationships, sight to those who are blind like those who cannot see God or God’s grace at work in their lives because of dark circumstances, and freedom to the oppressed like those who are bullied or our immigrant friends who live in fear.

We would do well to reread this mission statement every three days, not every three years in Year C of the Lectionary cycle. We will find ways that are unique to Belmont to fulfill this mission, but if our mission is something other than this it is not the mission of Jesus Christ.

Does that make us uncomfortable? They say that preaching can comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. These words of Jesus must stir something in us one way or another. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said that preaching, “allows the risen Christ to walk among his people.” (source unknown) But I’m not sure how comfortable we feel about Jesus walking among us this morning.

Let me share some words with you that I wrote for us together several years ago. Think of these words as “gently used” words that still resonate with us as we hear this text again this morning.

The problem with Jesus is that he does not live up to our expectations. Jesus lives up to God’s expectations. And yet it is Jesus who defines our faith. There are lots of voices out there trying to tell us what defines our faith and purpose and many of them seem completely divorced from the life and teachings of Jesus in the Gospels.    

Jesus is truthful and challenges our tendencies toward a narrow world view, but we want him to care about me and mine and no one else.
Jesus is telling stories about people outside the circle of our race and our class and our religion and we want him to talk more about us.
Jesus is telling us to refrain from retaliation and we feel stung by his words because we have cheered the battle “to fight evil” and have called for revenge.
Jesus is blessing peacemakers and we have blessed those who have been too quick to make war and called peacemakers “unpatriotic.”
Jesus is telling us to love our enemies and we’re still trying to learn to love the people with whom we hang out.
Jesus is telling us to feed the hungry, cloth the naked, visit the imprisoned and we would rather talk about charity that begins at home.
Jesus is defining his identity and his mission to the captives, the blind, the oppressed and we suspect that he is telling us that this is to be the church’s identity and mission. We would argue for a feel-good mission and one that is more comfortable and more marketable.
Jesus is telling us that we are not to get attention for the spiritual disciplines of prayer and fasting and we were thinking of making those into a media event.
Jesus is telling us to forgive those who have wronged us and we like to hold on to our grudges and cling to the past.
Jesus is reaching out to the least and the last but we are drawn to people with power and prestige.

We are in the season of Epiphany which has these bookend stories of the baptism of Jesus and the story of Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. These stories are similar because in the stories a voice is heard from God, “This is my Son, listen to him.” Epiphany invites us to listen to Jesus! Listen to Jesus who defines our faith, our identity and our mission. Thanks be to God!



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