God seeks the reconciliation of all things to each other and God in the cross and resurrection of Christ.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Reign of Christ, year C
Texts: Colossians 1:11-20; Luke 23:33-43

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

God didn’t need to die on the cross to forgive your sins or mine.

The holy and Triune God who made all things has a heart wider than the universe God created, deeper than the depths of space. The Hebrews whose Scriptures and faith we share witness to a God whose capacity for forgiveness and love is beyond our imagining. Even in the depths of prophetic wrath, God’s forgiveness is announced. God can and does forgive whenever God wants to. The Bible says so. God just has to say, “you are forgiven.”

And today we heard Jesus, God-with-us, offer forgiveness – before he died – to all who were killing him, from priests to governor to soldiers.

But we needed the cross to see God’s forgiveness of us. To see the love of God for humanity and the creation that draws all things into God. We see our forgiveness at the cross because there we finally are convinced of God’s eternal love and mercy, dying for us rather than destroying us.

God didn’t need to raise Jesus from the dead to give you or me or anyone life after death, either.

The almighty and Triune God who made all things invented life. In God’s creation things live and die and new life comes through death. Stars and galaxies and planets and creatures die and produce new ones. If God wants to provide a life in a world to come after our death here, make a new creation, God can. And will. The Bible says so. God just has to say, “let there be life.”

But we needed Jesus’ resurrection to see this truth. Believers began to realize that if Jesus lives, death can’t stop God. So we will live, too. Paul powerfully proclaims this to the Corinthians. Because Christ is risen, without doubt, Paul says, you and I and all creatures now know that we also will rise to new life.

But something God aches and longs for God can’t do by declaring.

The Triune God deeply desires reconciliation in this creation. Between you and me, between all peoples and all nations. Reconciliation between all people and God. A world of harmony and peace with justice that God intended from the beginning. And God can’t simply say, “let there be reconciliation.” We’re involved – our will, our actions, our love.

Paul claims repeatedly in several letters that the purpose of Christ’s death and resurrection is the reconciliation of all things, and all people to God and all people to each other. God needed to die and rise to lead us to this way.

God had to live with us and proclaim it, model it. Jesus, God-with-us, proclaimed a reign of God steeped in reconciliation, where all are valued, all are loved, all are forgiven, all live in love with each other. Where enemies cease being enemies because they pray for each other and love each other. Where no one is driven away or marginalized for any reason. And that life and witness threatens the power of institutions both religious and political who thrive on control and conflict and judging and winning. They always resist.

So Jesus, God-with-us, let us kill him to show that the reconciliation of all things is God’s heart for the creation and God will stick to that heart even if it means dying. Through Christ, Paul says today, God was pleased to reconcile all things to God, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace through the blood of the cross. In dying and rising from the dead for love, God showed the true path to life for all things.

To see it, you need the eyes of our friend hanging on his own cross.

So many didn’t see Jesus as a ruler that day. Not Pilate, not the Jewish leaders, not the soldiers. Even one of the criminals mocked Jesus for not miraculously saving them. But our friend, with little time left to live, looked at Jesus and somehow saw a king.

He didn’t ask Jesus’ forgiveness. He didn’t ask Jesus to bring him to Paradise. He just asked to be remembered when Jesus entered his reign. He somehow saw the truth that in Jesus, this man dying next to him, God’s true reign was found.

The truth that only power that is let go can do anything good. That only love that is vulnerably given up for others can heal anything. That reconciliation comes by the setting aside of power and the giving away of love, by losing, not winning.

This man gave us a great gift: he gave us a chance to truly see Jesus and find the path to the reconciliation God wants so much.

Remember me, our friend said. And Jesus said, today I will bring you into my reign.

For this dying convict, that was a promise of life in the world to come. His life here was nearly done. But for us, who at least have today and maybe more time than that, Jesus promises the same for this life.

If we want Jesus to remember us in his reign, Jesus says, we can be in Paradise today. Because Jesus reigns right here, in this life, in this world. On earth as in heaven, he taught us to pray. This life, this world, can be the Paradise God envisioned at the creation, when all live in the reign of God.

When we love God with all we have and love our neighbors as ourselves. Living that every day, we’ll know the joy of reconciliation with each other and with God. Reconciliation with those people you don’t have it with right now. Reconciliation in our city and nation between all who hate and mistrust each other. The reconciliation of society, when justice comes for those who are oppressed and violated and marginalized. And this world will become what God always hoped it could be.

What do you see when you look at Jesus’ cross, and remember the empty tomb?

Do you see the fullness of God in Christ that Paul proclaims today, through which God is trying to bring about reconciliation between you and me, between all people, and between us and God? Not by power over, by division and destruction and control and winning. But by love willing to die to bring all creation back. By power willingly set aside in weakness to win us all over in peace. Do you dare to follow that same path, that same weakness and vulnerability, to live in God’s reign?

God can’t force reconciliation, but for those who seek God’s reign in Christ, the Spirit of God is always ready to change their hearts, shape their lives, and bring them into the life of reconciliation. Do you dare such life in the Spirit?

God grant you the eyes of our friend hanging next Jesus, so you can see God’s reign even now, and the trust of this same dying man, so you will live in this reign, with the help of the Spirit. Until all things are united under and in and through and with Christ.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Trust God, not institutions, and in that trust, be changed so you can change institutions for the good of all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 33 C
Text: Luke 21:5-19

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

Recently these apocalyptic words from Jesus have taken new meaning for some of us.

We hear warnings of collapsing institutions and rising opposition to what is good, and no longer think, “it’s different for us.” We hear of threats from legal systems and religious leaders and no longer say, “not here.” Climate change has made shaking earth and threatening storms and even plagues a reality. For many of us, these little forays into the apocalyptic texts in worship each November and early Advent seemed unrelatable. But in the past years, many of us have heard Jesus very differently.

That previous inability to hear Jesus’ warnings as viable is because some of us lived in privileged situations. We weren’t listening to our neighbors, weren’t seeing the pain of our siblings. In this country and around the world, what Jesus describes is consistent with the daily lives of billions. Jesus’ words and hope are deeply relevant to them. It’s part of the sin of some of us that we haven’t been more aware before now. But now we are. So let’s truly hear what Jesus needs to say today.

Jesus warns that institutions are fallible and can’t ultimately be trusted.

His disciples couldn’t have comprehended that the Temple in all its glory would be torn down stone from stone. Ever since this second Temple was built after the return from exile, it stood as an impressive monument to God’s presence with the people of Israel. Throughout 300 years of oppression first by the Greeks and now the Romans, with only about 100 years of independence in the middle, the Temple of God remained. They might not have had their own country and governance, but the Temple stood. Which meant God stood. God was with them. That’s security.

Except, Jesus said, it’s not. As impressive and important the building, they couldn’t trust it for their security, their hope, their life. It would one day be destroyed. And forty years later, it was.

In the past six years, we’ve learned that the temple of our democracy is also fragile.

We never thought that was possible. We thought we built modern democracy for everyone else to emulate. But since 2020, for the first time in our history, international democratic watch groups placed the United States on the list of endangered democracies. We face a very real threat, not from two parties that disagree about policies and priorities, but from people seeking power for its own sake. People who will do anything to keep that power: suppress voting, gerrymander districts, lie about perfectly open and obvious truths, threaten violence. Not to govern, that’s clear, but to control. To enrich themselves. And to destroy their opponents.

After Tuesday, there’s hope. We once again had a peaceful election, something we’ve always simply assumed would be true. So far there hasn’t been another insurrection. But the final results aren’t all in, the actual transfer of power hasn’t happened yet. Who knows what kind of wretched plans are being made.

We couldn’t imagine the end of democracy in America. But we’re still on the edge of that precipice. And Jesus says, “good, I’m glad you understand that. You can’t put your ultimate trust in your political system, even if it is a good one.”

But Jesus also warned about other institutions, not all of them doing good.

He told his disciples they might be arrested and put to death for their faith, threatened both by civil and religious authorities. Institutions that are supposed to do good and promote the common welfare will not always do that. So don’t put your trust in them, Jesus says.

Many of us are late to this realization, too, because of privilege. I am the white son of a man who was first the county attorney and then the county judge. His good friend was the sheriff. The sheriff even won me a stuffed dog at the county fair when I was five. When I was 17, driving to a friend’s house at night, I was pulled over for running a stop sign. I hadn’t – there was a truck at the intersection and I had to wait for him to pass. The officer insisted I hadn’t stopped. But within two seconds of seeing my license in the dome light of his car, he brought it back and told me to go on my way. I’ve never doubted that my name caused him to do that. That’s privilege.

We know there are many in authority who are good people, faithful public servants. But that’s not always the case. Law enforcement, the courts, the legislature, city councils, religious institutions – including the Church – all supposed to work for the common good, do not always do so. Many of my neighbors have the exact opposite experience as mine, with no reason to trust anyone in authority. Jesus says it’s beyond time for some of us to realize the truth about such institutions and put our trust elsewhere.

Now that your eyes are open, Jesus says, here’s what you can trust: God is with you.

Yes, we’d be better if democracy survived. Yes, we need to fix or dismantle any institutions that are doing harm and evil. But the God who has defeated death is with us, giving wisdom to live the life God intends for God’s children, the words to say what needs to be said in the face of evil and oppression. Even if this whole country falls apart, Jesus says, God will still be with you. And you will survive, even if you die.

But hear this: God with us means God with everyone.

In our privileged, safe, secure lives we can’t say, “God is with us,” and ignore billions of God’s children who are suffering and struggling.

God loves all God’s children, without exception. God has no sides. But the Scriptures are crystal clear: God can’t stand it if a single child of God is hungry, or poor, or oppressed, or raped, or abused, or crushed by the legal system, or falsely arrested, or threatened, or hated for what they look like or who they are or what they believe. If those of us who are safe ignore all the rest of God’s children who aren’t, then we’ve created sides. And God will not be on ours.

Institutions that have become corrupt, that harm rather than heal, that break rather than repair, must be changed, and you and I must join with the rest of God’s children to do that. We must have the wisdom that even if good people serve in them, evil can still be embedded and empowered and needs to be excised.

And we need to work for institutions like democracy that do good, even though we don’t put our ultimate trust in them, so they’re sustained and strengthened for generations to come.

Even though the earth shakes and the mountains fall, God is with us.

With all God’s children. That’s our hope in the midst of a fractured world. God is with all of us, giving us wisdom to navigate a complex world, words to bring hope and life to ourselves and our neighbors, grace to heal even our nation’s wounds.

God is with all of us, giving us the command to love, and do all we can to ensure all our neighbors are well and whole. So that all might know the joy of God’s gracious life and love. Even if all this falls apart.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

See what God sees as blessed, not the world, and you will be. Act as God acts as holy, as you are set apart, and you will live as a saint.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
All Saints Sunday, year C
Text: Luke 6:20-31

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

Don’t trust what you think these words mean.

We sing of blesséd saints today, and hear “blessed” and “saint” and think, “that’s not me.”

We think “saint” means perfect people, always kind, loving, good to all. “She’s a real saint,” we say, and know what we mean.

We also hear “blessed” in a particular way. People are blessed if they’re doing well financially, their families are in health, they have good jobs. If things are going well for them.

But God-with-us, Jesus the Christ, says that for his followers, neither of those words mean that. And every saint whom you remember today who is in the life to come, every one for whom you lit a candle, every capital letter S saint listed in our worship book for commemoration, every one of them would tell you what Jesus does today. So trust the blessed saints, not the world.

It’s also important that Jesus is speaking to his disciples today.

All the blessings and woes and challenging actions are insider-directed. These words aren’t meant for all, only for those who have chosen to follow Jesus, to walk the path of the reign of God.

That means Jesus isn’t making patronizing, blanket statements about poverty. He’s looking at poor people who are his followers and saying, “you are blessed.” When he says “woe to you,” that’s not condemnation, it’s empathetic compassion. But again, Jesus is specifically talking to some of his wealthy followers, saying it’s hard to be a disciple with that burden.

And Jesus isn’t prescribing a way of action for all toward those who hurt them. He’s saying to these couple dozen women and men following him at this point, and to you and me and all who are followers, if we want to follow the path of the reign of God, this is how we will live and act and pray.

Today Jesus says “blessed” for followers of Christ is a way of seeing and valuing differently, and “saint” is a way of acting differently.

Jesus uses the word “blessed” (which also means happy, and even lucky) this way:

He sees his impoverished disciples and says, “lucky you. Happy you.” The world says “blessed” people have wealth and possessions and security. Jesus says, “that’s not how I see it.” So he says to his wealthy disciples, “that stinks for you, and makes following me hard.”

Jesus sees his disciples who are perpetually hungry, and says, “lucky you. Happy you.” The world says “blessed” people always have enough, and more, of what they want. Jesus says, “that’s not how I see it.” So he says to his disciples who do have all they want, “that stinks for you, and makes following me hard.”

Jesus sees his disciples who’ve experienced rejection or abuse for following him, or who’ve been harmed by others, and says “lucky you. Happy you.” The world says “blessed” people are always liked by others, have a good reputation. Jesus says, “that’s not how I see it.” So he says to his respectable disciples, “that stinks for you, and will make following me hard.”

If you’re following me, Jesus says, you have to completely re-define who and what you believe are blessed. You need to see as God sees, what God believes is the way of happiness and blessedness.

These new eyes lead to living with joy and hope on the path of God’s reign.

Jesus isn’t promoting poverty or hunger, or abuse. He’s saying, “my values are different.” So he says to his poorer followers, “you lack wealth, but you have God’s reign in your life. You’re physically hungry, but I fill you up inside with strength and hope in all things. You’ve been hurt or abused, but you are always my beloved.”

And he’s saying to some of his other followers, “the risk with your wealth is that you’ll think it’s your savior. You’ll depend on it, seek it, worry about it, and you’ll end up having nothing to show for it. And if you always get what you want when you want it, you’ll focus only on getting more, and you’ll make that your priority instead of God’s abundance shared with all. And you’ll be hungry in the places that really matter. And if people talk well of you and you’re popular, beware. You’ll value that so much you’ll base your decisions on it, not on what God needs in the world. And you’ll miss everything of value.”

Jesus warns you: Wealth easily becomes an idol. Fullness easily shapes priorities. Being liked easily drives decisions. And that means missing living in the reign of God and being a part of God’s healing.

Now, a saint is literally someone who is holy, which literally means “set apart for God’s work.”

Being a saint isn’t being perfect, always happy, well-behaved. You are anointed a saint in baptism and set apart as God’s holy child to make a difference in the world. Being a saint is acting as God acts.

So to those of his disciples “who will listen,” Jesus says: Be the person who ends the existence of enemies by loving yours. Who ends the cycle of hatred by doing good to everyone who hates you. Who blesses and prays for even those who curse and abuse you. Who ends the cycle of violence by not retaliating when others harm you. Be the person who ends the cycle of retribution by giving away even more when someone steals from you. Who ends the cycle of greed by giving to everyone who begs from you. Who ends the cycle of “they did it to me first” by doing to everyone exactly as you would have them do to you.

All that kills our world can be traced back to these patterns.

Multiply payback, hatred returned for hatred, inability to share goods, by seven billion people and you get the world we live in.

You and I and all the saints are set apart to start a new way of living. To live as God lives. To offer ourselves, body and soul and all that is ours, to breaking the cycles of evil and pain that are destroying this world and our lives and the lives of all of God’s children.

And don’t worry about everyone else, Jesus says, just focus on you. “Live as I’ve set you apart to live, as my saint, and you will bring healing and hope to where you are. That’s all I ask.”

Today, trust the blessed saints as you consider Jesus’ words.

Every saint whom you remember today who is in the life to come, every one for whom you lit a candle, every capital letter S saint listed in our worship book for commemoration, every one will tell you the same as Jesus: See what God sees as blessed, happy, and you will find joy and hope in your life, no matter the circumstances. Act as a saint, as one set apart for God’s work, and you’ll be a part of God’s healing life in this world.

Trust these saints in this, too: you’re not going to be perfect. You can see as God sees, but you’ll have blind spots. Times you forget and look at the world in the old way. Don’t fret, these saints say to you. We all had days like that. Trust God’s love for you, and God’s Spirit, and your vision will clear up.

And you’ll have times you don’t turn the other cheek, or decide not to give to those who ask of you, times you cling to hatred or anger at another. Don’t fret there, either, they say. We all had days like that. Trust God’s love for you, and God’s forgiveness, and you’ll be set on the right path again.

See as God sees. Live as God lives. And you’ll know the joy of God’s reign. You are a blessed saint, after all. God says so.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Life in Christ starts with a leap of action, not of faith. It is the doing that will lead to the believing and the living and the joy and the delight.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Reformation Sunday, Lect. 31 C
Text: Luke 19:1-10

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

Zacchaeus has so much joy. It’s beautiful.

Whatever he expected when he climbed that tree, when Jesus invited himself over for a night’s stay, Zacchaeus exploded in joy.

Or: maybe the joy really came when he chose his new life. A chief tax collector, Zacchaeus was the top of the pyramid scheme. Whatever the others he managed stole, Zacchaeus stole more, accumulated more. Now he decides to divest himself of half of his wealth. The Torah demanded that if you defraud another, you owe them the amount you stole, plus 20%. Zacchaeus in his joy decides to give back 400% instead of 120%. And he couldn’t be happier.

We’ve seen this joy before. Levi, also known as Matthew, in chapter 5 is called from his tax booth to be one of Jesus’ inner circle. Imagine the disbelieving delight he felt as he followed. In Jesus’ parable of the two lost sons, the younger son had the joy of being embraced by the father he wronged, welcomed home in honor. Wouldn’t it be amazing to know such joy?

Because not everyone found it.

When Matthew leapt from his tax booth, the good and righteous people of the town complained Jesus was choosing the wrong kind of people. When the younger of the two lost brothers celebrated with his father at that party, the elder lost son refused to go in, refused to be happy. And the good people of Jericho, the the privileged and faithful ones, were not at all pleased Jesus chose to honor the traitor, the thief, the despicable Zacchaeus.

What makes the difference?

When he was criticized about Matthew, Jesus said only the sick need a doctor. He came to call sinners, not righteous people. When the good people complained that he welcomed sinners and ate with them, Jesus told stories of the lost being found. Talking to people who, Luke says last week, had persuaded themselves they were righteous, Jesus told of a good, righteous person praying thanks for that life alongside a traitor tax collector begging mercy. And Jesus declared the wretched one righteous. Today, after complaints about Zacchaeus, Jesus again says he’s only come to seek and to heal the lost.

Do you see? If you think you’re fine, you won’t want Jesus. If you think your heart and spirit and life are in the right place and you don’t need God’s healing, you won’t want Jesus. If you think that you’re doing pretty well, are godly and righteous, and have a life you want to keep and protect, you won’t want Jesus. It’s the privileged, wealthy, good people who don’t know what to do with Jesus.

Their problem is Jesus’ Good News involves a complete transformation.

A reformation of the heart and soul and mind and strength. Those who followed Jesus were changed. Zacchaeus utterly dismantled his wealth and made reparations to those whose backs he stepped on to have his life. Matthew abandoned his oppressive occupation. Most disciples left their lives behind and gave up everything. Joanna and Susanna brought their wealth and followed Jesus, supporting his ministry financially, whatever their families thought.

People who think they’re fine, good, righteous, don’t see a need to be changed, and often are scared to imagine change. You and I come here and actually do admit we need God’s grace, want God’s healing. But we don’t easily seek to be changed, either.

So, do we avoid the change, the reformation God seeks in us, because we’re afraid?

Or are we waiting for the conviction and joy of Zacchaeus? Matthew’s boldness in following? Waiting for some magic feeling from Jesus that will give us the clarity of all these who were drawn to Jesus and changed? Was that what the righteous people were missing?

The truth is, you’ll find Zacchaeus’ joy and transformation when you act like Zacchaeus. If you want to live in loving relationships, act in loving ways. If you want to live in a just society, act in justice. Do what God’s reign looks like and you’ll know it, live in it. And be changed.

None of those who were transformed, re-formed, by Jesus waited for absolute certainty. They dropped their nets and followed. They gave away their wealth. They left their tax booth. And they lived new lives.

Zacchaeus saw that in the reign of God Christ came to bring people weren’t cheated and defrauded by others. So he gave back what he’d stolen. That’s when salvation came to his house, Jesus said. Healing came to him. When he took a leap of action. It is the leap of action that leads to faith and trust, and to reformation, not the other way around.

We know what God needs us to do.

Far too much of what we own and cherish came on the backs of our neighbors. When we each individually consider the wealth we hold in property and pensions and IRAs and actually let some of it go we would see what the reign of God really is. Sure, it’s a frightening step. But Zacchaeus must have also taken a deep breath before his decision.

We know that community reparations are also a huge subject these days. This beautiful place is on Native land, stolen from those who lived here. Some of our sibling congregations in this synod in this city already have a budget line item paying reparations to peoples who lived on their land. They’re living in God’s reign already in that, are being changed.

We can’t wait, individually or as a community, for the bolt of lightning to hit and all our confidence to come before we decide to do something like that. It is the leap of action into the reign of God that leads to the faith we seek. To the reformation we need. And to the joy we so deeply desire.

We can stand outside the party and mope, or take the risk and go in.

We can ponder what a good response could be until we’re dead and gone, or we can act, in our own lives and as a community, as if the reign of God Christ is making in this world actually exists.

Get out of your tree, go into the party, step away from your tax booth. You’ll find the joy. And the love of God will give a true re-formation of healing for you in your life, and me in mine, and ours together as God’s people in this place.

And then we will be able to say with Jesus, today salvation has come, healing has come to this house.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen