The Great Farmer’s plan for the harvest of good in the creation is that in the end, all will be transformed into life-giving plants, healed and whole and good.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 16 A
Texts: Matthew 13:24-30 (also Matthew 5:44); Romans 8:12-25

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

Goodness is stronger than evil. Love is stronger than hate. Light is stronger than darkness. Life is stronger than death.[1]

Nine years ago on the Sunday today’s readings also appeared, I began and ended my sermon here with those powerful, hope-filled words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Each section within the sermon also began with those words. They were the bones that held together God’s promise to always be with us in the face of evil, hate, darkness, and death.

Nine years later, and three years after the last time we heard this parable while reeling from the death of George Floyd and separated from each other by COVID, now in the face of continuing evil, hate, and the shadows of death that pervade our world, now I hear something else in this parable.

I hear Jesus say to his beloved servant Desmond, “your words are grace and truth. But listen, and I will show you a deeper mystery beyond your imagining.”

And that mystery is this farmer’s idiotic plan.

If you’ve studied this parable, or heard sermons on it, you know the two plants Jesus refers to are virtually identical looking. It’s extremely hard to tell them apart, and anyone who tried to do the weeding might easily make mistakes. Of course you don’t want people who don’t know what they’re doing digging around when plants are first coming up.

But no gardener, no farmer in their right mind would let weeds grow up with the desired plants all the way to harvest. Weeds choke out the desired plants, and severely reduce the yield. Jesus knows this – he literally said it in the parable we heard last week.

Now, this isn’t the first or last parable Jesus told that sounds ridiculous. Jesus was a rural person, and spoke to lots of rural people. So, every farmer in his crowd would’ve said this parable’s solution was dumb. But every shepherd in his crowd would’ve said that risking the safety of 99 secure sheep in the wilderness to find one lost one was the dumbest thing you could do, too. And most parents in his crowd would’ve said that a father who lets his two sons walk all over him, giving them everything, loving them even when they reject him, was just foolish, and a bad parent.

But when Jesus tells you a parable that absolutely crosses the line into foolishness, that sounds ridiculous and naïve and wrong and you know it, that’s when you really need to pay attention. Because when you say to Jesus, “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” that’s when Jesus says, “now you’re getting it. Now you’re really listening.”

And now you’re ready to hear God’s deeper mystery.

If your grasp of God’s love doesn’t ever make you think God is naïve, unaware of reality, you aren’t ready for the truth of God’s love. If your awareness of God’s love doesn’t ever make you say, “I don’t see how this can work,” or, “that would just be foolish,” you aren’t ready for the truth of God’s love.

The farmer is completely non-anxious about the servants’ rightful fears at his foolishness. Because the farmer is banking on a deeper mystery: evil isn’t to be destroyed. It’s to be changed. This is the farmer’s plan: by the time of the harvest, there will be no weeds to burn. All will be ready to share goodness for the life of all.

So today Jesus says to our brother Desmond, how about this? “Goodness will heal evil. Love will transform hate. Light will open up darkness. Life will raise the dead.”

In the wisdom of the Triune God, who came as one of us into a world sown deeply with evil, it’s not a question of who’s stronger. It’s a question of restoring the whole creation. All of it.

Jesus is always absolutely clear about this. But we don’t want to hear it.

Because it’s so foolish. So we say things like: It doesn’t take into account the real world. Evil needs to be destroyed. Some people are just bad. You need to do whatever it takes to end the power of evil.

Unless you follow the Son of God. Who, as God-with-us, engaged evil and hate and darkness and death at their core, by loving them. Offered forgiveness as he was nailed to the cross. Refused violence and the tools of this world, refused to take power.

Who commanded this: love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you. That prayer, that love, will heal evil. Transform hate. Open up darkness. Raise the dead.

Of course we stand against what evil does in this world.

It’s our job. We stand in solidarity with all who are crushed and oppressed by the evil and hate and darkness and death that has been planted in this world. We do whatever we can, with whomever we can, to dismantle the systems and structures that perpetuate evil and hate and darkness and death. We join hands in love and grace and witness to the healing power of God’s death-breaking love.

But we do not hate. We do not demonize any of God’s children. We do not ever use violence or authorize others to do violence for us. We do not relegate anyone to the scrap heap of the bad who need to be burned. We don’t overpower or try to win. We love our enemies and pray for them, and that will heal the world.

You don’t have to like the plan. But it’s the only one Jesus has. It’s God’s way.

And there’s more to this plan.

Years ago in a previous parish, I had a confirmation student who had serious attention problems. It’s not uncommon, lots of folks do. But over three years I would’ve said this one heard nothing that was taught. It was so hard for him to sit still, and his comments were often random.

But then in one class in eighth grade, this amazing kid asked a simple question: “Do you think Jesus is delaying his return hoping that even the devil might finally come back?”

This kid got the plan. He didn’t care if it sounded dumb or foolish. He had ears to listen.

Because if this Farmer’s plan comes to fruition, that’s exactly what will happen. Even the great Enemy who first planted the weeds will be healed. Even the great Enemy who first planted the weeds is welcome to the harvest. Even the great Enemy who first planted the weeds is beloved.

It’s not going to be easy.

Listen to Paul, who says it’ll involve a lot of sharing suffering with other people, that the whole creation is groaning in labor pains, waiting for the birth of this new thing. Listen to Jesus, who knew something about suffering and dying for love, knew what it was to set aside power and violence, knew what it was to love enemies and pray for them.

But it is a birth God is making, Paul’s right. And only goodness can give birth to goodness. Only love can give birth to love. Only light can give birth to light. Only life can give birth to life.

This is the plan that will heal all things. It’s absolutely foolish. So trust it with your life.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

[1] Copyright 1995 Desmond Tutu, admin. Random House, Inc. and Lynn C. Franklin Associates, Ltd. Used in Evangelical Lutheran Worship, hymn no. 721.

All we’ve heard this past month from Jesus through Matthew comes to fruition today in Jesus’ promise to give you all the strength and guidance you need to be faithful.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 14 A
Texts: Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30; Romans 7:15-25a; Zechariah 9:9-12

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

The Gospel readings this past month have led us on a strange journey.

You can’t accuse Jesus of a bait and switch, the way these weeks have gone walking through Matthew 9, 10, and now 11. It’s the opposite: we heard the hardest things first, and now are hearing of hope and relief. Jesus started with the call to go out and heal, bring life, drive out the demonic, proclaim the reign of God, massive, difficult jobs, followed by warnings of rejection, families splitting, and other difficulties when we do the work of Christ’s love. But then, last week Jesus simplified it all to doing kindness and empathy. And now today, it’s even more good news. Don’t worry about this work I need you for, Jesus says. I’m here to help you.

And our readings from Scripture today beautifully take us through the emotional journey we’ve just been on, so that by the time we get to the Gospel we’re ready for the relief and hope Jesus offers.

Zechariah speaks first today, of joy.

Zechariah says, “rejoice greatly” – God has come to you, will end war and suffering, bring peace, and will reign over all. You’ll be freed from what binds you, and restored to the fullness of your life.

And that’s why these women and men followed Jesus in the first place. Not because of what we’ve heard the past month, the sending. They followed because they saw in him the sign of God’s coming into the world, fulfilling not only Zechariah’s promise, but many others in Scripture. Their joy was full as they met Jesus, were blessed by him, followed him. Some, like Mary Magdalene, were healed of possession themselves. Some, like Matthew, who were treated as pariahs, were told they were worthy of God, too. All saw in Jesus God’s coming reign of peace justice and mercy and wholeness for all.

So, if you can remember why you ever loved Jesus, ever came here hoping to hear from him, if you remember why you trust that God in Christ loves you and all things and is promising to make this world new, even ending death’s power, you’ll recognize that joy.

It is from that joyful following that Jesus then sends people out to be Christ.

But no matter where the sending originates, it’s a hard path.

Jesus himself was overwhelmed by it, and needed fellow workers. All of the difficulties and risks Jesus talked about are real. And today the apostle Paul opens his heart and says, “it’s really hard for me, too.”

This section of his letter is so personal, but you can immediately recognize in yourself what Paul is saying. He wants to do the law of God, delights in it, wants to do good. He wants to live in the Spirit and be the Christ he’s called to be, the loving Christ he urges all his congregations to be.

But he struggles. The good he wants to do, he says, he doesn’t always do. The bad he wants to avoid, he ends up doing. He’s trapped in his old habits, patterns, ways, even when he desperately wants to live in new ways. When he tries to break free, he falls back.

There’s your gift: whatever anxiety you had over your inadequacy or possible failure when listening to Jesus’ call to you these past weeks, Paul says, “I know exactly what you’re going through.” You’re not alone in your fear of failure, in your frustration at your stuck-ness, in your confusion about why it’s so hard to walk a new way, even if it’s a way of love and mercy. Thank God Paul says, “me, too.”

And yet, Paul’s real gift is at the end of this section. “Who will rescue me?” he cries. “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord,” he answers. So Paul takes you by the hand and leads you to today’s Gospel, to Jesus.

And Jesus gives you the best news of all: I’m here to help you.

After filling you with hope that in Christ God will heal all things, and calling you to follow with your life and love; after sending you anointed as Christ to be God’s love in the world, and telling you it’s going to be hard and risky; after asking you to be Christ’s compassion, kindness, and empathy, now Jesus says this: Just come to me if you’re burdened with all this, and I’ll help you.

I’ll do all this work with you, yoked at your side. I’ll pull along with you, guide you, support you. Even give you rest. I’ll make the work almost feel easy.

When you’re exhausted at your struggles with your old ways and habits, frustrated that you forgot yet again, or failed in your love, or missed a chance to make a difference, whenever you feel like Paul feels, remember: you’re not pulling the weight alone. Christ bears that weight with and for you. You have all you need right at your side, if you look for Christ and listen for the Spirit’s voice. You’ll find that strength, that partner, that work-sharer.

But there is one important warning.

None of this matters if you don’t want to follow, if you refuse to be sent. There is no joy Zechariah can give you in God’s coming, no relief and hope Paul can give you in your struggles, no shared strength Christ can give you in your work, if you don’t want God to come, don’t want to struggle to be Christ, don’t want to work in God’s reign.

If you want to live your life as you choose, on your terms, doing things your way, God will let you. If you don’t want to be changed, don’t want to learn compassion and kindness and empathy, don’t want to love enemies or pray for people you don’t like, don’t want to risk loving your neighbor, don’t want to work to change the world, God won’t force you.

Lots of people come to crossroads in life and know the right way to turn, the way of life and good, and don’t choose that way, because it’s too hard. That’s your choice. Just remember you can’t take two different paths at the same time. It’s not possible.

But if you want what God is doing, it is yours.

If you want to take the right turn, if you want what God is offering in Christ, all these gifts are yours. You’ll find Zechariah’s joy, Paul’s commiseration, Jesus’ relief.

So come to Christ with all your burdens about how you are living as Christ, all your anxieties about not being good enough or faithful enough. All of us carry the same burdens, even Paul himself.

And all of us are here to remember we are yoked with Christ in this life, in this ministry, and with that guidance and strength, anything is possible. Even you becoming someone who changes the world, if only your little part of it, with God’s love and mercy.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Following Christ, bearing Christ’s heart, is very simple: share Christ’s empathy and kindness in all things.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 13 A
Text: Matthew 10:40-42

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

A cup of cold water. That’s all you need to know to be a faithful disciple. Or at least it’s a start.

That’s what Jesus says today. And that’s a bit confusing. The past few weeks we’ve heard a lot of challenging things from Jesus from the verses in Matthew leading up to today.

He sent out disciples to heal, to bring life, to drive out demons, to proclaim the reign of God. That seems to need skills and abilities we don’t easily see in ourselves. Jesus himself was overwhelmed at the sheer number of God’s children he needed to reach in person, that’s why he’s sending you and me.

And Jesus warned about opposition that will come to those who bear Christ’s heart into the world, rejection, even worse. Following him might even break up families.

If you’ve been listening carefully, and if you hope to be a faithful disciple, Jesus’ words are daunting. Nothing sounds easy, and the work we can see for ourselves that God needs to be done in this world is overwhelming. Maybe it’s easier not to follow.

But today Jesus says, “don’t overthink it.”

A cup of cold water. That’s all you need to know to be a faithful disciple, he says. Or at least it’s the start. Because it reveals two critical qualities of the heart of Christ that are simple, and easy to understand. They take all the overthinking and anxiety out of following Christ on this path of discipleship.

The first quality is kindness. The heart of Christ you bear is kind.

Kindness is seeing a thirsty “little one,” and offering a cup of cold water. It’s the only action Jesus asks for today. And it’s the simplest of acts. To notice someone, and to be kind to them. To be kind to that one person whom you are with. That family member. That friend. That co-worker. That stranger.

Kindness is the first quality of Christ’s heart. Your heart in your anointing as Christ.

Can you be kind? Jesus asks. Then you’ll do just fine following me. You’ll do wonders when I send you out into the world.

The second quality is empathy. The heart of Christ you bear is empathetic.

Empathy is sharing the suffering of the other one. Empathy is not assuming you know what the other person is going through. Empathy is not putting your experiences on them. It’s listening, intuiting, simply being with another person until you can share in their feelings and needs.

Because a cup of cold water might not be what’s needed. You don’t want to assume you know what another is going through, or what they need. Or assume they respond to the world as you do. You want to be with them, and listen. And if there is something you can be or do, be ready.

Empathy is the second quality of Christ’s heart. Your heart in your anointing as Christ.

Can you find empathy for my children? Jesus asks. Share their pain, listen to them, be with them in love? Then you’ll do just fine following me. You’ll do wonders when I send you out into the world.

Of course, the obvious question needs to be asked: Is this enough?

Can kindness and empathy bring healing to the sickness of this world, life to the death in this world? Can they drive out demons? Proclaim God’s reign? Jesus answers this by modeling it himself.

Yes, he came as God-with-us, incarnate in our human flesh, and bore God’s sacrificial love for the whole creation, for you, on the cross. That’s huge, universe-healing stuff. And yes, he called followers and sent them out, incarnate Christs like him, to be community together and to spread God’s love across the world, so the big changes God needs changed in this world could happen.

But Jesus also had hundreds of one-on-one moments of kindness, hundreds of times he deeply felt the pain of just one person, and was God’s love to them. The vast majority of what Jesus did was kindness and empathy for those he met individually, touching them personally with God’s love.

Now it’s true, the problems of the world won’t necessarily be solved only by your individual kindness and empathy.

If you’re giving out cups of cold water, and everyone is, at some point someone’s got to ask, “why is everyone always so thirsty? What’s going on with our water supply?”

The ills that cause so much pain and suffering, the systems and structures God needs removed, need more than that moment of kindness you’ll show this afternoon, more than that empathy you’ll find tomorrow.

So we gather together as a community. To pool our kindness and empathy and ask God to guide us to make a difference in a bigger way than any single one of us could. Ask God to focus our work on being a part of God’s justice and mercy in this city and world, so we can make a difference on all that ails our world: racism, sexism, classism, oppression, inequality, socially authorized violence, so many things.

And we can’t do it alone as one congregation. So, we partner with other communities, within our city and beyond. For example, we are members of Align, an interfaith group of 17 congregations in Minneapolis working on the severe problems of housing in this city, from rental assistance to low cost housing, and all kinds of things in between, including advocating at the legislature. Other partners we have in this city work with us on issues of food scarcity, and domestic abuse, and mental health counseling.

The kindness and empathy each individual has, multiplied in a community like Mount Olive, then by other communities of faith, across the city, across the nation, across the world: suddenly walls fall, chains are broken, lives are restored, wholeness comes.

But don’t overthink it, Jesus says.

It all starts with a cup of cold water. Your kindness. Your empathy. For all. No exceptions, not even that person that really gets under your skin, or that stranger you fear. No exclusions, not even that one you profoundly disagree with, or just don’t like. That’s the heart of Christ you are called to bear.

You’ve heard from Jesus that you’re needed, you’ve been anointed for this. You’ve heard you are called to proclaim God’s reign, bring healing and life, that you’re sent as Christ. You’ve heard it might be frightening, challenging, risky to bear God’s heart in your world.

But you’re not doing this alone: you have all of us in this community, and we have so many others who partner with us. And you have the Holy Spirit in you, changing your heart into the kindness and empathy of Christ.

It’s pretty simple, Jesus says. Can you handle a cup of cold water? Then you’ll do just fine.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen