The way of Christ – a way of life and love and peace – stumbles us out of our way of death, breaks open our hearts to be like God’s, and heals all things.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 27 A
Texts: Matthew 21:33-46; Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20; Philippians 3:4b-14

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Jesus is a stumbling block. A rock that breaks things into pieces.

Jesus says so, not his enemies.

He quotes Psalm 118, “the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing and it is amazing in our eyes.” We know that Psalm. We sing it every Easter morning, rejoicing that Christ, the rejected stone, the Crucified One, has been raised from the dead. Is the Rock on which we build our life, the Cornerstone of the hope of the universe, the Foundation of the Church.

But that foundation, that rock, that cornerstone, trips people up, causes them to stumble? Breaks them into pieces? How can Jesus be both cornerstone and stumbling block?

Jesus is just telling the truth, nothing more.

Jesus isn’t threatening to break us in pieces or knock us over on our path if we do wrong. He’s still God-with-us, the Risen Christ, whose love for us and the creation never ends, the foundation of our hope. But he’s saying, following me means you will fall over me when you try to go your own way. You have habits, behaviors, attitudes, that need to be broken and gotten rid of, or you can’t follow in my way.

In First Corinthians, Paul said the cross of Christ is a stumbling block, not only to others, but even to us. It’s not just a stumbling block to our minds, though, to understand what God is doing at the cross. Today Jesus says it’s also a challenge to us in our everyday life, our discipleship, our following.

“Lose your life to find it,” Jesus says. Following the One who loses his life for the sake of the world means that’s our path, too. And that’s a huge stumbling block to us. We fear being knocked out of our comfortable way of doing things. We fear letting go of things, fear the pain we might feel. But if you’re following Christ and nothing ever causes you to stumble out of your own path, nothing ever is broken out of you and lost, you’re probably not following Christ.

You don’t have to fall over Jesus at all, though. You can dodge the stumbling block. Just don’t follow Jesus.

No one is forced to follow Christ on the path of self-giving, losing love. If you don’t want to stumble over Jesus, or be broken open, just go your own path and you’ll never encounter even a misstep.

But if you see that Jesus’ way is a way of life and hope for you and for all, you won’t be able to dodge the stumbling block.

If you believe that a way of love of God and love of neighbor is a way that will heal the world, if you know that Jesus’ way is a way of making peace, of merciful justice, if you see that love of enemies is the hope of reconciliation for all people, then Jesus is going to be tripping you up a lot in your everyday life. Breaking you open.

Because the way that dodges the stumbling block, avoids being broken, is a way that we see all too much today. That appalling display last Tuesday night in the “debate” is just the ugly face on a world where far too many live for themselves, whether others are hurt or not. The hatred we see for others in our leaders, in our culture, the systemic problems that cause so much needless suffering, the destructive selfish behaviors that shock us to see even in ourselves, these are all on the path that avoids being broken and tripped up.

The path of life Jesus offers the world, the path that looks so wholesome, and good, and fulfilling, and hopeful, is found by stumbling into Jesus’ way and being willing to be broken open for love – love of God, love of neighbor, love of the creation.

But remember: on Christ’s path you are always, always with the One who loves you with an eternal love.

If you follow Jesus, yes, you’ll stumble over taking up his cross, you’ll be broken open. But you’re following the One who tells you daily you are forever loved in the heart of the Triune God, and that life follows death, healing follows suffering. You’re following the One you trust with your life.

When Israel heard the Ten Commandments, they must have been a bit of a stumbling block. They learned that living into them was hard. Habits needed to be broken, new paths taken. But the Commandments were given them by the God who took them out of slavery in love and led them to a new land. The Commandments showed a way for the community of God to live and thrive, even if they meant sacrifice, and they came after they’d all seen for themselves how loved they were by God.

Paul says the same thing to the Philippians today: he’s been so changed by belonging to Christ – a belonging that has cost him dearly many times – he’s learned nothing is too hard to let go of if it means becoming more like Christ’s love, that even losing all things is gaining because of God’s love in Christ that owns him.

They could have had a party in this parable, you know.

They could have enjoyed a rich harvest of grapes, realized that they didn’t own the vineyard and in gratitude shared the produce with the owner and with all their neighbors, and celebrated. Feasted. Sipped wine made from their own grapes. Instead, they killed the owner’s representatives, even the owner’s son.

But that Son willingly died to give them life. Rose from the dead to reverse the judgment that they’d lose the vineyard. Came back to say, “now that I’m alive again, could you please live in this vineyard that you don’t own in such a way that all share in its fruits? All are blessed?”

The way of Christ calls you to stumble from walking your own way, a way of hurt instead of healing, a way of hate instead of love, and that’s actually a good thing, because it leads to joy and celebration. The way of Christ breaks habits that harm you and others and the world, and that’s actually a good thing, because it leads to mercy and justice. A harvest of abundance in the vineyard of this earth, enough for all.

“You are my beloved,” God says to you in Christ. “Let me trip you out of your way that leads to death, break open your heart to be one like mine, and you will find life you never dreamed existed.

And so will my whole creation.”

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

God chooses that every child of God must be blessed by the abundant resources of this earth, and invites you and me to join in that generosity and find life and joy.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 25 A
Texts: Matthew 20:1-16; Exodus 16:2-15

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

What if in this story Jesus actually means God cares about real things like money?

After all, Jesus used a financial transaction as the chief image in this story. He describes a farmer who hires workers to bring in a harvest, workers who were hired at different times in the day, workers who end up being paid the same.

Most of us were taught that in this parable Jesus is speaking of people who come to faith early and work as disciples for years, compared to those who might, on their deathbed, seek hope in God’s love. This interpretation says God’s grace is full and complete even to the one who only turns toward home in the last moments of life. But I know you, my family at Mount Olive. You don’t need this parable to teach you what you already deeply believe, that God’s grace belongs to all God’s children, late-comers or long- workers.

But if we turn this parable like a jewel in the light, focusing on the money image Jesus uses, we see a truth about the reign of God hidden here Jesus also wants us to see. A truth about the economy and how God desires the world to work.

To see this, let’s imagine that the vineyard owner is God.

There are ways to read the parable where we’re the owner in the story, or where we’re the long-hours workers, or where we’re the ones standing idle who receive both the grace of being hired and a full-day’s wage for an hour’s work.

But here, let’s consider God as the owner. If this parable might actually be about wages, that suggests that God’s intent, God’s generosity, is that the economy of this world is one where everyone, without exception, has enough to live on, a roof over their heads, a meal on the table.

This is not how our world works, is it?

We can’t even agree on a fair minimum wage in this country that allows everyone who works to earn enough to feed all who depend on them. We’re seeing steady attempts to dismantle what structures we do have to care for the health of all people, to ensure that those too old to work still receive money to live.

Most people can’t see this parable as speaking to the actual economy because it seems ridiculous. Argument after argument is made how this isn’t sustainable, how the world doesn’t work that way.

But none of those arguments matter to us if God wants the world to work that way. “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me?” the owner asks. If we imagine the owner as God, that question weighs heavily on those who want to follow God’s way.

God has provided a world with abundant resources, enough for all. That’s not disputed. But humanity has largely decided we won’t let God choose what we do with God’s resources. Our systems are built not with abundant generosity at their core, but with strict rules of how to earn money, rewards for accumulating for ourselves and building up treasures at the expense of others.

I know this is uncomfortable ground for those of us who have money laid away.

You might value how you’ve worked hard, and put aside money, and are reluctant even to consider that God might hope for something else. It would be easier to spiritualize this parable and say, “of course it’s not about money and the economy.”

The problem is, hearing this parable with real money and the real economy in mind resonates with everything the Bible says about God’s view of wealth and poverty, abundance and scarcity. God constantly calls us to live justly, feed those who are hungry, care for those who lack. God never says in the Bible, “build up barns for yourself so you make sure you’re taken care of.” So, God happily saying in this parable, “Everyone eats tonight, everyone gets a day’s wage,” is exactly what we expect God to say.

So if you and I wish to be faithful to Christ here, what can we do?

First, imagine living with a belief in God’s abundance for all – manna for everyone to live on, wages enough for everyone to eat and have shelter and clothing. If that’s what God chooses to do with what belongs to God, consider: how can you be part of that plan and not one of the grumblers or hoarders?

Second, imagine how to learn what’s enough for you to live. In both the manna story and Jesus’ parable, there’s one clear standard: do you have enough for today? Israelites who tried to save more manna than they needed for that day found it was rotten. Vineyard workers all got a day’s pay, regardless. If what God chooses to do with what belongs to God is ensure that every single child of God gets what they need for today, what does that mean for you, your decisions?

Third, since you want to follow Christ, when arguments rise up in you against an economic understanding of God’s will– as they can in all of us – you could make an effort to set them aside. It’s far easier to find reasons “that can’t work in the real world” than to imagine what God might call all of us to do. So you could practice the discipline of setting aside your gut-level objections and letting the Spirit open your mind and heart to new possibilities.

Don’t be frightened, though. You aren’t asked to find all the answers all at once.

Jesus wants parables to stick with us, roll around in our minds and imaginations. Let this one do that. Ponder it and hold it in your heart and see where it brings you in the next weeks, months, years.

Because if you know you want to follow Christ on this path to economic justice for all people, a society where everyone is cared for and has what they need, a world where every nation equally shares in the resources of the earth, remember that Christ calls you to follow a path, not instantly arrive at the destination. Baby steps are still steps. You and I can learn this together, follow Christ together, and that in itself is faithfulness.

And remember the main point of this story: the Holy and Triune God is abundantly generous, and that includes, you, too.

You learned that at the cross, saw it at the empty tomb, know it in the Spirit’s breath in your heart. Here, your faltering steps to be faithful are welcome to God, because you’re starting to choose what God chooses. When you stumble, God’s abundant love and forgiving grace wash over you and lift you up again.

There’s enough for everyone on this earth. Everyone gets to eat every day. Everyone has a place to sleep. Everyone has what they need to live. That’s what God chooses for what belongs to God.

Are you envious of this generosity? Or might you, living as Christ, want to find the delight of joining in it with the Triune God for the life of the world?

In the name of Jesus. Amen

See the cross through the teaching of Jesus and know that it is the shape of the life in Christ, the way for the healing of all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Holy Cross Day
Texts: 1 Corinthians 1:18-24; John 3:13-17

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

What do you see when you look at the cross?

When you put a cross on a chain and place it around your neck, what are you saying? When you bow to the cross as it is carried into our worship, what are you thinking?

This feast of the Holy Cross has its origins in commemorating the fourth century finding of a beam of wood, excavated from a hill in Jerusalem, that the one leading the search, Helena, mother of the emperor, believed was the true cross of Christ. By Luther’s day there were enough pieces of the true cross in reliquaries across Christendom you could build Noah’s Ark from all of them.

So: is the cross a relic for you to adore? Is it a talisman when you wear it, where you feel protected? Do you wear it openly to declare your faith? Is it a reminder that Christ died for you and your sins?

All of these are very personal, individual understandings of the cross. As if Christ’s death was for each individual believer to own. Some of our more beloved cross hymns, like “When I survey the wondrous cross,” and, “Beneath the cross of Jesus I long to take my stand,” come from that personal perspective, using “I,” and “me,” viewing the cross primarily for the suffering and agony of Jesus on it, and the personal forgiveness of sins that are given through it.

But what if, when you looked at the cross, you held with you the words and teaching of the One who died on the cross? Jesus had a very particular and consistent focus that the cross reveals to you and me. We might want to pay attention to that.

I talk a lot about the “cross-shaped life,” and sacrificial, vulnerable, love as the way of Christ.

That’s because this is the guiding focus and thread of Jesus’ teaching. Jesus, the face of the Trinity for us, clearly called humanity to follow a self-giving path of love for neighbor and God that is sacrificial, vulnerable, focused on losing for the sake of the other.

So, can you look at the cross not only for your own sake, but as a call to a way of life, as Jesus meant it to be, the path Jesus has laid out for all who wish to follow?

There’s real danger in making the cross only your personal salvation talisman.

First, it implies that God’s plan of salvation is individualistic. If the only thing that matters is that I believe that Jesus died to save me from my sins, I don’t really ever have to think about the life and suffering and reality of my neighbor. The only concern I have for my neighbor is if they know they also are “saved” by the cross.

Second, this focus implies that the cross is only about a single, one-time transaction – Jesus died for me – and doesn’t necessarily lead to the life in Christ Jesus talked about. All I need to know is that I’m “saved,” that I get life after death. I don’t have to think about the shape of my life, because Jesus died to save me. Too often this creates a Christian life that bears little resemblance to Jesus’ teaching and command.

Here is the truth the Scriptures proclaim with joy: the Triune God pours out God’s life in love to show humanity the same path.

The true healing of the cross begins with the suffering and death of God’s Son and continues with my suffering love and yours, our willingness to lose our lives to find them. Jesus came to identify once and for all the way of Christ, the way God has always been calling God’s people to walk. Jesus models this way, teaches this way, and lets himself be killed to show that this way is the only way God will love the creation back into the life God intended for us.

Easter then is the great triumphant Life of God breaking through suffering and death, showing that this cross-shaped path of Christ, while difficult, is filled with life and hope and resurrection.

That’s what Jesus and his followers whose words are in Scripture have taught. It’s the wisdom that makes life rich and abundant, and leads to the healing of all things. But, as Paul says today, God’s wisdom in the cross is a wisdom that looks like foolishness to many. So let’s be sure we keep our eyes on Jesus, and our ears, too.

“When I am lifted up,” Jesus said, “I will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:32)

Yes, the cross is for you, and yes, your sins are fully and freely forgiven. But it is also for all, because God’s love is for the whole cosmos, Jesus proclaims today.

And seeing that when you look at the cross, the love of God in Christ flows in you through the Spirit and you are strengthened and fed to follow the same path of Christly love that the cross began. To look at the cross around your neck, or carried in worship, or hanging on your wall, and remember you are blessed to shape your life, your love, your whole being the same way.

And in this, Jesus’ hope to draw all people into Christ’s love will be realized.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen