We walk by faith, not by sight. But God is bringing the harvest. So we do not lose heart.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 11 B
Texts: 2 Corinthians 5:6-17 (with reference to other parts of this section, before and after); Mark 4:26-34; 1 Samuel 15:34 – 16:13

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

“So we do not lose heart.”

We’ve heard this encouragement in the past weeks as we’ve heard Paul write to the Christians of Corinth. You might feel fragile, not strong, like jars made of clay, Paul said two weeks ago. But you do this ministry by God’s mercy, he said, and you carry the extraordinary power of God’s love in that fragile, clay jar. So don’t lose heart.

You might feel the weight of your mortality, or the struggle of this life, Paul said last week. But God is preparing a life for you beyond death. So don’t lose heart.

Paul doesn’t deny our experience of how challenging it is to follow Christ. He understands you worry about what you can’t do for the world, on how impossible it is that all the problems the world faces can be helped. I don’t need to list them again, we know them well, we talk about them with each other all the time. As people of God we see so much in our world, our society, our city that needs God’s healing and grace, and we know we’re called to be a part of that.

But if you’re like me, or like Paul, some days you despair, and wonder what you could possibly do to make a difference. Today Paul gives an astonishing answer: always be confident, for you are a new creation, and God will accomplish much through you.

You are the person God is making new to be a part of God’s healing.

That is to say: you are God’s new creation. You are exactly the child of God needed for where you are in your life in this world. You not only carry God’s love within you to witness and live in the world. God is making you new, healing your fragility, strengthening your weakness, until you are God’s creative force for healing in the world around you. Everything old is passed away in Christ’s death, Paul says. All is made new in the life of Christ’s resurrection. And in the verses following today’s reading, he says it’s all for God’s reconciliation of all things.

But, Paul says, we walk by faith, not by sight. So don’t be surprised if you don’t look in a mirror every morning and see this new creation.

That’s what Jesus says in these parables about seeds.

In one parable, there is planned, cultivated sowing of seeds: agriculture. In the other, wild, random seeds, cast into the world by wind and birds. Both are mystery.

The farmer, who knows which seeds to plant and when to plant them, doesn’t know exactly how they grow. The seeds are sown, and faith takes over. Work is done in the meantime, of course, tilling, tending. But the harvest is mystery.

The lowly mustard seed, growing in a ditch with no one to plan for it or tend it, likewise grows to its potential, a bush big enough to make shade. No one knows how. Even today we can explain the growth of seeds scientifically, but the mystery of their spark of life eludes us.

Jesus says that’s what God’s reign is like. A new creation. But it starts very small, and grows to be a blessing. Whether planned or seemingly random, growth happens. Some days it’ll look like nothing is happening. But we walk by faith, not by sight. So we don’t lose heart.

Which brings us to the young shepherd, David.

Despite our writer’s adoration, who says David was ruddy, handsome, and had really pretty eyes, the truth of this story is David is overlooked. Whether Jesse knew why the great judge and prophet Samuel wanted to see his sons one by one isn’t clear. What is clear is that his response was to bring seven of his sons. Not the kid out back watching the sheep.

God takes this opportunity to remind Samuel that God ignores outward appearances and looks into the heart for the truth of a person. Something in David drew God. David, forgotten by his own father, becomes Israel’s greatest king. And yes, he’s flawed. He does horrible things along with the good. But at this point, David is the mustard seed. Not seen to have much value.

But we walk by faith, not by sight. So we don’t lose heart.

We can trust God with this mystery. We’ve seen this often.

Long before there was a statue of him on the National Mall, Martin Luther King, Jr. was just a pastor in the city of Montgomery. When Rosa Parks was arrested, he was the one local leaders chose to lead the boycott. A local minister, just trying to be faithful to Christ in his city.

Rosa herself wasn’t always a hero. She was a hardworking African-American woman asked to do what she did, to stand up to the oppressive Jim Crow laws. A regular person, just trying to make a difference in her own city.

Long before she became Mother Teresa, beloved international symbol of Christian life and ministry, Teresa was simply a nun from Albania who saw a need in one of the most desperate places in the world and went to Calcutta to be of help. Just a servant of God, trying to be faithful to Christ.

And a rich Italian playboy of the thirteenth century would have been unnoticed by history or anyone else except that he had a spiritual awakening and decided to follow the path of Jesus. Now there are statues of St. Francis of Assisi all over the world, and the movement of teachers and servants he founded has done wonderful ministry. But he was just an ordinary person, trying to be faithful to Christ.

These are beloved saints to us, people we admire and respect. The harvest of their lives is magnificent, and continues to have a great impact. But we’re looking back, from the harvest. The seed planted for their new creation was just as small as any of us to start.

We walk by faith, not by sight. So we do not lose heart.

It’s not likely we’ll produce such a famous harvest.

Those are remarkable people who somehow connected with their times and found a bigger stage. We probably won’t be remembered beyond our lives here except by those closest to us.

But that’s not the point. You are a new creation. The seed of God’s grace and love has been planted in you. You are growing into a force for God’s healing in your world, and if you’d look back at your path right now, you’d see that growth.

Like the farmer, you don’t know how it happens. But like Martin, and Rosa, and Francis, and Teresa, and millions of others, the fact that you’re just one person in a complicated, broken world, means nothing. God’s mystery is that you are needed, and you will be able to do what is needed.

We walk by faith, not by sight. So we do not lose heart.

You are a new creation. The seed is planted.

And you don’t have to wait for the harvest to hope, Jesus says. First the shoot breaks through the earth. Then there’s a stalk, then a head, then the full grain in the head. There might be long periods of time you can’t see growth, hope, promise. But watch: there will be signs.

And the promise will be fulfilled. There will be a harvest one day, feeding the world, breaking down walls of hatred and violence, healing all people. At some point the farmer sees the harvest is ready and gets the sickle. At some point there’s enough shade under the mustard bush that some birds decide to nest there. At some point the kid caring for the sheep becomes God’s leader for the people. At some point the person who saw a need in their own neighborhood changes something for the better. The harvest will come.

How, that’s a mystery. That’s in God’s hands.

But it will come: we walk by faith, and not by sight. So do not lose heart.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

 

Sometimes it might even seem to us that Christ is out of his mind in what he asks of us: but the love we are called to live is the love we have already received. So we follow.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Third Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 10 B
Texts: Mark 3:20-35; 1 Samuel 8:4-20

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

Some people thought Jesus was out of his mind.

Isn’t that stunning? Sure, lots were following him. Many brought loved ones for healing, others came to listen. But at home in Nazareth, crushed by the crowds, some folks thought he’d lost it.

So his family tried to restrain him. “You’re embarrassing us in front of our neighbors,” perhaps they wanted to say.

But are we sure of what we think of Jesus? This story, along with Israel’s demand for a king, places us firmly at the intersection of our faith and doubt. What do you really think about Jesus anyway? How much does what your neighbor thinks about you matter?

Some would say our faith in Christ is a sign of we’re out of our minds.

Plenty in our modern world look at us, people who hold belief in an unseen God, as separated from reality. By their measurements, we don’t fit. It’s a matter of point of view.

In 17th c. Salem, Massachusetts, the communal belief about witchcraft led to an hysteric period of trials and executions of people we today might call misguided, even mischievous teens, and others caught in the web. The community decided what was normal.

We gather in this space, collectively go on our knees to pray to a God we can’t see, and sing to this God, and listen to words from this God. This seems strange to many. But is there any sign apart from this that we’re not sane?

Not really. We’re flawed. We make mistakes, or in our faith language, we sin. But we’re mostly rational, functional human beings, we contribute to our communities, do good, care for our families, we’re normal people. We’re likely not out of our minds.

But consider the strangeness of what we hear about Jesus, and about faith.

In today’s Gospel Jesus casts out demons. Today we see signs in many of these exorcism stories of actual disease. Some look like epilepsy, others like serious mental illness. Whatever Jesus actually did, we sometimes understand it differently than back then.

For two millennia people of faith have had visions of God that taught us, inspired us. People who were perhaps transported out of their mind to see the love of God on an intense level, to understand creation and the divine will. But today, wouldn’t these people be sent to a psychiatrist, and medicated? Today’s world understands visions very differently.

Yet those stories of exorcism witness to God’s power to enter our lives and bring wholeness. We are blessed by them. Those visions over the centuries open to us the truth about God’s love and grace. We are also blessed by them. Who says they’re not normal?

Each group and culture decides what’s within the pale and what isn’t. But what if we’ve got a problem with Jesus ourselves?

It’s possible that we sometimes think Jesus is out of his mind.

At this point in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus has cast out a lot of demons. He’s done many healings. But he’s also offered forgiveness, as if he had God’s authority. He’s claimed authority over God’s Sabbath command. He’s spent time with publicly outcast people. Tax collectors. “Sinners,” as if that’s a title.

People likely weren’t bothered by the healing or exorcising demons. But declaring God’s forgiveness and grace, spending time with so-called “bad” people, interpreting God’s law as intended to bless, these were problems. They’ll only get more so. Wait till he starts talking about taking up crosses and following him to the cross.

But are you also embarrassed by Jesus? Do you wish you could restrain him when he calls you to vulnerable and sacrificial love? Are you willing to forgive utterly as God forgives? To welcome into your company people you find objectionable?

It does seem that, like Jesus’ family, sometimes we’d like to get him to stop talking and come inside, before the neighbors think we’re crazy like he is.

It’s a question of who we want as our true authority.

The Israelites were tired of the era of the judges. When things got bad, God raised judges to lead the people. But Samuel, a good judge, named his sons judges, and the people didn’t like them. So they asked for a king, like their neighbors had. An authority who was in control. Trusting God to guide them, following God’s ways, that wasn’t what they wanted. Even with the very dark side of having a authoritarian ruler that Samuel laid out for them, they rejected following God as ruler.

We prefer ourselves as our final authority. “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul,” the poet has said.[1] We don’t want an authoritarian ruler. But we’d rather have ourselves as the final verdict in how our lives are run. Like Israel, this is a rejection of God.

Jesus’ radical view of servant love, shaped by the cross, is often more than we want to do. So we sometimes think, “he’s a little over the top, let’s do it our way.” We restrain Jesus from annoying the neighbors, or making them think we’re strange.

But Jesus says his true family doesn’t restrain him, they follow.

Loving as he loves. Forgiving as he forgives. Hanging out with all people, all kinds. Not crushing people with God’s law. Loving God completely, and loving neighbors. Jesus’ family follows God’s path of love as authority.

It’s not an easy path. Why do you think we’ve tried to restrain Jesus so often? But Jesus longs that we realize this path of Godly, Christ-like love enables our lives to make sense, provides far more blessing and joy than it costs, makes our hearts and lives whole and well. You know this: you’ve met this astonishing Love of God in your bodies and lives, in Word and Sacrament, in each other. You know the love God took to the cross is the only thing that gives peace and hope. Walking in that path is the only thing that makes sense, too.

Others might think you’re out of your mind, but they already thought that with you coming here every week. What difference does it make to take it the whole way, and follow God fully, not yourself?

And what do you care what the neighbors think? Just love them and care for them in Christ’s name and you won’t have to worry about the rest.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

[1] “Invictus,” William Ernest Henley (1849–1903)

 

We listen for what God wants, what Jesus, God’s Son, says is compassion and love; in our listening we have God’s gift of Elis who help us hear.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Second Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 9 B
Texts: Mark 2:23 – 3:6; 1 Samuel 3:1-20; Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18

Dear friends 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 hear when you listen for God?

What insight or guidance comes? Do you hear God’s compassion for the creation, God’s undying love for all? Do you hear God’s judgment and wrath on others, on you?

There is no question in human history that has caused more destruction and suffering than “What does God want?” Bitter wars have endlessly been fought between different faiths and within the same faith. Hatred and violence and abuse and oppression and evil beyond comprehension have been done by humans to humans, to other creatures, and to the creation, because someone claimed, “this is what God wants.”

The story of Samuel begins, “The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” It was long since the last judge, and no one was hearing God speak and telling the people. But now God calls this little boy – how old we don’t know – to be a prophet. God speaks to Samuel, who will declare to the people what God is thinking, what God wants. But right now this boy, our writer says, “did not yet know the LORD.” Samuel had never heard God speak. The word of God was rare.

What about you? Have you heard? What do you hear when you listen for God? And how do you know you’re listening to God, and not someone or something else?

This is the dispute between Jesus and the Pharisees today.

The Pharisees aren’t bad guys here. Like Samuel, like Jesus, they listen to God, and teach what God is saying. So they know God’s Sabbath commandment is central, one of the Ten. They’ve faithfully created rules to help the people keep this law, do what God wants.

When Jesus lets his hungry disciples work on the Sabbath – picking grain was work – they rightfully say this violates their understanding of Sabbath law. When Jesus heals a withered hand, again, they declare him in violation.

But this rabbi Jesus, the Son of God, hears God differently. They don’t recognize him as God’s Son, of course, only as a teacher. But this rabbi declares that the Sabbath commandment was designed to be a blessing to humanity. A gift from God. Something Orthodox Jews today would completely agree with. So, Jesus reasons, if Sabbath is gift, letting someone go hungry, or delaying someone’s healing, violates that gift. As he asks, do you think it’s lawful to do good on the Sabbath, to save life?

This is just a normal dispute between Jewish rabbis over following God faithfully, though it ends with ominous foreshadowing. So as we witness this, wondering what God wants, who’s got it right?

Well, we who are baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection and filled with the Spirit of God find that’s an easy answer.

We believe Jesus is the face of the Triune God, who reveals the Father’s heart and gives us the Holy Spirit for new birth. If Jesus, God’s Son, says that compassion and love is how to interpret God’s commandment on Sabbath-keeping, that’s our final answer. Jesus is the living Word of God, God’s desire, God’s intent, in our flesh. We read the written Word of God through Jesus: his take on Scripture and God’s will is our norm.

Yet this doesn’t answer “what do you hear when you listen for God?” Because believers in Jesus have led the killing and destruction over God’s will for the world. We’ve killed millions: each other, and people who weren’t Christian. We’ve permitted the destruction of the environment, and either quietly or openly supported oppression and prejudice and hatred, all in the name of the Christ who wouldn’t let a man wait a single day more to have his hand healed.

In our nation alone, an outside observer of Christians would conclude that there are serious, nearly unsolvable disagreements between Christians over what God wants. When we hear what some Christians say about the poor, immigrants, war, race, gender, really just about everything, we wonder if they’re even Christian at all. And they say the same of us.

Maybe Eli can be of some help.

Samuel may not have heard God before. God’s Word might have been rare then. But Eli had heard God. Eli had been faithful. He was flawed, yes. His sons were evil and destructive, and God said this was partly Eli’s fault.

But this story is about Samuel. And Eli is God’s gift. When Samuel hears a voice, Eli realizes who is calling. Eli helps Samuel recognize what he has no experience with: knowing when God is speaking to him.

Carrying this wisdom, Samuel now hears God speak, and begins his path to be one of God’s greatest prophets. One who, our writer says, never let a single word of God “fall to the ground.” Eli made it possible for Samuel to find this faithful path of listening to God, holding on to God’s words, and carrying them to the people.

Eli still works today. That’s God’s gift.

When you struggle to hear God, to know what God wants and desires, look around. Find an Eli to help you sort out what’s going on.

Think: who has served as Eli to you in your life? Who has said, “I think that’s God leading you,” or sent you to a place in Scripture, or to worship, or to a community of faith, where you could hear God more clearly?

In this place we gather to worship when we could easily each pray at home, because here we meet God in Word and Sacrament. God speaks to us through Scripture, and through the actual presence of Christ in this place. We find the heart of God’s love in the Meal of grace we share that gives us forgiveness and life.

But we also have each other as a means of God’s grace, as Elis. You have others here who are also listening for God, trying to understand God’s desire. These Elis help you listen. And in the mystery of God’s Spirit, you are also Eli, to others here, and even in the world.

As we help each other listen, we hear God’s desire clearly from Jesus today. Love and compassion for all. A desire to heal and not destroy. A love that God will unmistakeably prove in dying on a cross and rising to new life. It may even be with the Spirit’s grace we can serve as Eli to other Christians who don’t hear this love, don’t offer it to others.

Thanks be to God, our times aren’t like when Samuel was called.

God’s Word, alive in the risen Christ and in our hearts through the Spirit, is with us constantly. It’s not rare. And we have the written Word to shape our listening and discerning. We have each other as Eli, opening our ears.

So always keep listening. How God’s compassion and love are to unfold in this broken world will need your best mind, your keenest ears.

And as Eli says, your first step is always to say, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”

In the name of Jesus.  Amen