I Corinthians 1:1-9

When the Apostle Paul writes his first letter to the Christian community in Corinth that he founded, he’s not just writing to catch up after a little time away. In fact, Paul is writing to let these people know all the ways in which they need to shape up. The community has become a mess, full of conflict and competition. But Paul begins his letter with kindness:

To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind – just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you – so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Paul doesn’t start his letter with complaint. He doesn’t launch right into the big lecture. Instead, he begins his letter praising this community as rich in speech and knowledge of God, not lacking in any spiritual gift, called to be saints and destined for heaven. And while he’s praising them, he pulls a little sleight of hand: in four sentences that are ostensibly about them, he mentions God or Jesus a total of 16 times.

Some commentators argue that Paul’s sweet words at the opening of this letter were simply buttering everyone up, disposing them to be open to his difficult message. I can see their point. But to me, Paul was also doing something else: he was reminding this group of what was good about them. And he was helping them to see the big picture, to remember why they were trying to be a community at all: it was all about God, and God’s call on their lives. (more…)

Matthew 22:34-40

In this passage, we reach the culmination of Jesus’ long series of confrontations in Jerusalem that we have been reading in the gospel of Matthew. One last question is addressed to Jesus, one final attempt to test him: “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”

Jesus replies with words I hope are familiar to you: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

Unlike so many of the exchanges that led up to it, this one is straightforward: a clear question and a clear answer. If the questioner was testing Jesus on his knowledge of scripture, Jesus has aced the test: his answer echoes passages found in the books of Deuteronomy and Leviticus. If this lawyer is testing Jesus on his theological orthodoxy, he also has the right answer: Jesus is echoing the opinion of other major Jewish leaders of the day; the famous Rabbi Akiva, known in the Talmud as “head of all the sages” also lifted up this passage of Leviticus as the most important scripture.

So if you never memorize another bible verse, memorize this one. It’s saying something if Jesus, the Pharisees, and Rabbi Akiva all agreed about it. These words have become building blocks of our tradition: something to return to whenever things get confusing. When in doubt about what Jesus was really trying to do, or when someone asks what Jesus was all about, come back here: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

Like all simple statements, however, this scripture demands some unpacking. In particular, what kind of love are we talking about? In English, the word “love” is used for a shockingly large range of emotions and actions. It describes feelings of friendship and passion and long-term companionship, and even our feelings about chocolate and fashion and sports. What kind of love was Jesus talking about, when he told us to love God with all that we are, and our neighbor as ourselves?

The original languages of the bible are a bit more specific than English when it comes to the concept of love. Both Hebrew and Greek have a particular word for the love of friends: re’ut, and philia. They both have a particular word for passionate love: ahavah, and eros. And there is a third word in each language that is perhaps harder to precisely explain; these are the ones that are used in relationship with God: Chesed, and Agape. Chesed, the Hebrew, is translated as loving kindness, covenant love, grace, compassion, or mercy. Agape, the Greek, is translated as generous or disinterested love; the love found between family members; a selfless love.

The most important point here is not to nail down an exact translation: we can leave that to the poets. But going back to Hebrew and Greek helps us to understand what kind of love Jesus might have been talking about. It wasn’t a love that’s all about what we feel on any given day, or who we are drawn to. It’s a love more similar to the love we offer to family members, and fellow church-goers, and neighbors. It’s love as joyfully performed service. It’s love as generosity and devotion, not necessarily out of inspiration, but following through on an intention we have of living in a particular kind of way.

Now there are people in the world, I think, who are passionately in love with God all their lives; mystics, we sometimes call them. But many of us experience that kind of emotionally charged love only in special moments; or not at all. Apparently, that kind of feeling is not really necessary for faith, or for faithful living. We need not always be swept up in love for God — or our neighbor — or ourselves. Following Jesus’ instructions means acting with compassion and mercy anyway: towards God and God’s creation; towards our neighbors, near and far; towards ourselves.

God, sometimes we fall out of love. We can’t seem to get close to you, or understand your ways. Our friends, family, and humankind disappoint and disillusion us. We even, especially, dislike ourselves. Help us to remember to open our hearts to the kind of love you are always offering: scceptance; forgiveness; generosity; hope; kindness; constancy; service. May your love inspire and renew us so that we may offer this kind of love to you, to others, and to ourselves. Amen.

Isaiah 64:1-52:2
Jeremiah 29:4-11

Last week, Hannah gave all of us who were here a paper leaf with a name of a country on it. She asked each one of us to pray for healing of that country this week. Today I want to build on this theme: “healing of the nations,” beyond just prayer for their dire situation (important as that may be). I want to combine that call for God to heal them with the focus of my own testimony two weeks ago: Healing and guidance during a time of failure. Combining these two leads me to ask: What are the pathways for healing national failure? Hence the sermon title: “The Healing of Nations: From Failure to Hope.”

As noted in the introduction of the Scriptures today, we heard the recounting of two sequential moments in Israel’s experience of catastrophic failure: Isaiah’s blunt admission of national moral failure while the Babylonian army destroyed the city of Jerusalem; followed by Jeremiah’s depiction of the subsequent exile into a foreign land as a pathway to hope. Can you image how this might have been received by the Israelite people?

Israel had lived through both times of trial and times of glory in the past – from slavery in Egypt to the Kingdoms of David and Solomon when they had been a world power in the ancient world. However, by the end of the lives of the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah, they experienced ethnic cleansing on a massive scale. Yet, precisely because they experienced God’s presence through these years of calamity resulting from moral failure, according to Isaiah, they have much to teach us. (more…)

Matthew 22:15-22

Do you ever find yourself wishing you had the perfect comeback in an awkward social situation? Jesus has this gift. In this passage from Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus is teaching in Jerusalem. This text comes soon after the one we heard a few weeks ago, when Jesus’ authority was questioned by the priests and the elders of the people. Threatened by Jesus’ popularity and the scene he made overturning tables in the temple, these priests and elders tried to silence him through intimidation. No luck. Now it is the Pharisees and the Herodians who are after Jesus, with a new strategy: flattery and a trick question.

“Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one, for you do not regard people with partiality. (How’s that for buttering someone up?) Tell us, then, what you think, Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?”

Everyone present that day knows that there is no good answer to this question. If Jesus declares that faithful Jews do not need to pay taxes to the emperor, he will be arrested by Roman soldiers. But if Jesus declares that these taxes should be paid, he will lose credibility amongst his people. Roman taxes were a true hardship to pay, and a source of bitterness among the native population. (more…)

Matthew 21:23-32

When Jesus enters the Jerusalem temple in the passage we hear today, he is already in trouble. Two days ago, he processed into the city on a donkey, as adoring crowds waving palms proclaimed him the Son of King David. Yesterday, he overturned the tables of the money changers in the temple, and drove out all who were selling and buying, claiming that the house of prayer had become a den of robbers. In just two days, he has claimed enormous public attention and challenged both political and religious leaders. So it’s hardly surprising that the chief priests and elders of the people stop him when he tries to make a repeat appearance at the temple.

“By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” they ask. In other words: who are you, and what gave you the right to make such a mess? The chief priests and elders must have been sure they were in the right. And they must have been sure they had the upper hand. They belonged in the temple, by right of ancestry, education, class, and tradition. They were the ones in charge. They were the ones who had brokered peace with the Romans. Who was this interloper, hogging the spotlight and disrupting the status quo?

Unfortunately for them, Jesus is not someone who’s easy to intimidate. In fact, he has an amazing talent for making even the most powerful people around him feel uncomfortably unsure of themselves. In just a few sentences, he stumps them with a theological question and goes on to tell a parable in which he compares them – the chief priests and elders of the people – unfavorably to tax collectors and prostitutes, the least respected people in Jerusalem. Wait a minute, Jesus says: are you certain that you’re the ones obeying God’s authority? (more…)

Exodus 16:2-15 and 17:1-7

When we meet the Israelites in these passages, they are complaining. A lot. They are convinced that they are suffering a fate worse than death, and it’s not hard to understand why. Just consider what they’ve been through.

Long ago, their ancestors were forced to immigrate to Egypt to escape famine. As a result, they have been slaves there, working without pay to build up an empire. They asked God for help, but it took a long time to get any. Now that God is doing something, She seems to have some pretty strange ideas about how to bring about their liberation.

This whole freedom project started when God chose a leader – but what a choice! Moses? Moses was raised by Egyptians, so he’s hardly trustworthy, and he’s a terrible public speaker. That was just the beginning. To convince the Pharaoh to let them go, God visited plagues on the whole land: the water turned to blood, frogs dropped from the sky, there were gnats and flies and livestock extinctions, boils and hail, locusts and darkness all over the land. It was an impressive show of force, but not really that pleasant to live through. Finally, Moses told them they could leave – giving them hardly any warning – and led them on a terrifying journey across the red sea, with an Egyptian army threatening from behind, and walls of water towering on either side.

None of this has been easy. And now these people are on what seems to be an aimless journey through a desert without a reliable source of water or food. When food finally arrives, it is manna: which was far as scholars can tell was the hardened secretions of plant lice. Not everyone’s idea of delicious.

The Israelites complain against Moses and Aaron and against their God. They moan, and they murmur. But who can blame them? They’ve been through a lot, and they’re still struggling to survive.

But there’s more than one side to each story. What do you think God’s best friend might have to say about the situation? (more…)

I Corinthians 1:18-24

There’s something about Concord in autumn. The wind ruffling the leaves of beautiful old trees. Bicyclists and tourists pouring through town, enjoying the views and the history here. And there is something else, too, the excitement of a new school year. So many people are returning to learning, to the life of the mind. So many others are returning to a faster pace of work or in volunteer and social engagement. Have anyone been busy, in the last week or two? A few things going on?

There’s an energy in the air with the cooler temperatures, whether you live in Concord or not. July and August gave us an excuse to read bad novels on the beach, nap on the couch, eat ice cream and s’mores, if we can: but no more.

Autumn is the time to get our lives in gear. (more…)

Luke 19:1-10

In the gospel of Luke, Jesus and his friends travel to a town called Jericho. In Jericho there was a man named Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was a very important man, a rich man. If you lived in Jericho, you would have recognized him when he came walking down the street. But Zacchaeus wasn’t very popular in Jericho, because he was the chief tax collector for the Roman government, and tax collectors were known for cheating people out of their money.

Jesus was coming to town, and this man Zacchaeus wanted to see him. But Zacchaeus was a short man, and he couldn’t see over the rest of the crowd. Zacchaeus wanted to see Jesus so much, though, that he ran down the road and climbed up into a sycamore tree.

When Jesus came to the tree, he looked up. He saw this strange short stranger in the branches above him. And do you know what he did? He said: “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.”

Everyone was surprised. The crowd was surprised, and they were angry, because they didn’t want Zacchaeus to have the honor of hosting Jesus. Zacchaeus was surprised that Jesus knew his name, and that he wanted to come and stay at his house. But then Zacchaeus said something even more surprising. He told Jesus: “I will give half of what I have to the poor, and I will pay back four times as much as I have stolen.” Zacchaeus told Jesus that he would give away almost all of his money, to try to make up for what he had done wrong. And Jesus said, “Today this man has been saved. I came here to seek out and to save the lost.”

Some of us have heard this story about Zacchaeus before. But I want to tell one more story this morning, and that’s one that I think everybody will know. Has everyone here heard the story of Goldilocks? (more…)

Matthew 22:15-22
The Nicene Creed (325)

Over the course of the summer, I have lifted up stories of some of our earliest saints, beginning with a few that are mentioned in our bible, and moving forward in time. Today, we focus on two saints who mark a major milestone in the development of our faith tradition: its acceptance as the religion of an empire. This transition was shaped by two people: the Emperor Constantine and his mother, Helena. Although you probably won’t find them celebrated as holy figures in the Protestant world, both have been recognized as saints in Eastern churches, and Helena is also recognized as a saint in the Catholic Church.

Not much is known about Helena’s origins, other than that she was a Christian woman without great wealth or social status. She became the wife or consort of a Roman general named Constantius Chlorus. When Constatius was promoted to become the Roman Caesar of the Western territories, he decided that he needed a new wife to fit his new role, and Helena and her young son Constantine were sent away. In time, however, Constantine came to surpass even his father’s political achievements, becoming the supreme ruler over both Eastern and Western portions of the empire. By all accounts, he always maintained a close relationship with his mother, and as he gained status, she was elevated alongside him.

It’s not known whether Constantine became a Christian during childhood, or at some point during his adulthood, or shortly before his death, when he was baptized. We also don’t know what role his mother played in his faith, though she is often given credit for converting him. What we can track is Constantine’s political positions on Christianity throughout his developing career. (more…)

John 1:1-14

A Reading from Origen’s First Principles.

If you have trouble reading Origen’s First Principles, let me say this: you are not alone. There is a reason that I did not major in Philosphy, or become an academic theologian. Just trying to find a suitable quote to share  was enough to give me a headache. But in surveying the saints of the first three centuries of the church, I just couldn’t leave out Origen, one of the church’s first philosphers and professors.

Origen was born into a Christian family in Alexandria, Egypt. At the age of 17, his father was arrested and killed because of his faith. As legend has it, Origen’s mother had to prevent him from confessing his own faith and being arrested as well. Origen found a different outlet for his convictions: he sold his father’s library for a small pension so that he could become an independent Christian scholar and teacher. As his fame grew, he became a travelling lecturer. Unfortunately, his popularity did not earn him any points with the local bishop, Demetrius. Demetrius was suspicious of Origen and his beliefs, and made significant efforts to monitor and critique him.

Ultimately, Origen freed himself from Demetrius’ criticisms by settling in a more friendly atmosphere in Caesarea, in Palestine, where he established the world’s first Christian university and a substantial library. He attracted wealthy patrons and undertook impressively challenging writing projects. He also became a priest and had weekly preaching duties; we can still read his sermons today. His students include some of the most well-known theologians of the next generation.

Despite, or because, of Origen’s great success, his life ended sadly. During a backlash against local Christians, Origen was sought out and tortured. He was eventually released, but did not survive for long. Just three decades later, theological controversies led to an order for all of his writings to be burned. Fortunately, many of Origen’s writings survived. His importance and influence over our Christian belief and practice has been particularly lifted up by scholars since the mid-twentieth century.  (more…)