Be kindled with the fire of the Spirit again, and God will help you be a part of the healing of all things. Even if you can’t often see it.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 20 C
Texts: Luke 12:49-56; Hebrews 11:29 – 12:2

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 fire was almost out for these people.

No flames, just fading red embers cooling. Their life of faith was sluggish, dull, stuck in malaise.

They used to be on fire. They heard the Good News and found the thrill of conversion and new community in Christ. Later, they went through a time of persecution. Some lost their property, some were imprisoned, but their fire of faith burned. Adversity banded them together, strengthened their faith.

But this community to whom Hebrews was written had cooled off considerably. Conversion and persecution were long past. They might be in the second or even third generation, and people do drift away. While those who remain just get tired. Too many problems in the world, with little to excite their faith, find hope in God’s leading.

That’s why an unknown preacher wrote Hebrews. It’s a sermon meant to fire up tired believers.

Today’s part is all about encouragement.

The preacher lifts up hero after hero from the past, beloved ones known from Scripture. Rahab, Gideon, Daniel, the widow of Zarephath. So many others. People who trusted God’s promises and lived faithful lives, served with courage and hope. Even in the face of persecution and death.

This preacher tells them to notice two things. First, all these heroes died before seeing the completion of God’s work in the world. But their trust in God wasn’t based on whether they experienced everything being made right again, or even anything good happening. Their trust was based on God’s faithfulness.

And second, these heroes are now this community’s cloud of witnesses. They’re running the race of faith and life, and these faithful witnesses are cheering them on.

So, the preacher exhorts, let’s run with perseverance the race set before us, releasing all the weight of despair and fear and anxiety and dread that drags us down. Be kindled again.

And now you see that Jesus’ desire to bring fire to the earth isn’t a threat.

Jesus feels the same as the preacher of Hebrews. After three years his disciples still aren’t getting it, still making mistakes, misunderstanding things. There’s been more and more opposition, so they’re getting anxious. And they can sense Jesus’ own growing weight of anxiety as he gets nearer and nearer to his death.

Are my followers ever going to be on fire for God’s reign? Are they ready for the setbacks and the challenges? They seem to want me to do everything. How can I get them aflame with passion for bringing God’s good news to all who desperately need it?

Jesus might also be anxious about you and me.

We’re a lot like the people of Hebrews. Most of us aren’t new converts, haven’t been persecuted. We can easily take our life of faith for granted. We can be sluggish, dull, as followers.

Partly because of the size of the problems in this world we know God wants us working on. Issue after issue, problem after problem. When you look at all the challenges in our society and can’t see much hope for changing even one of them, how do you stay charged up?

And partly for the same reason as the people of Hebrews. We live our lives of faith in our everyday, ordinary world. It’s hard to pay attention and listen to God’s voice all the time in a world where there are so many voices. It’ hard to stay excited for daily growth and challenges, to focus on all the good decisions we need to make. So we settle into patterns, habits, living our lives without much awareness of our life as Christ, for how we are vulnerable in our love, for changing the world. We just get up, do what we do in the day, go to bed, and repeat.

But Jesus says, “how I wish your fire was already kindled!” And don’t you wish that, too?

Except that will mean division, Jesus says.

If you’re fired up about your life in Christ, if the Spirit’s flame is burning in you to become more like Christ, to be a part of God’s healing and justice and mercy, that’s going to ruffle some feathers.

You know this. How many of us have stories of Thanksgiving dinners and family birthday gatherings where the division and tension over critical issues in our world was obvious and painful? How many have loved ones we don’t talk to about certain things, knowing it will get into fights and anger?

And it’s not just about politics, or even just about the United States. God’s desire for you and me and all God’s people to live in mercy and justice, to be safe and whole and loved and fed and sheltered, for all to know God’s abundant, rich life, all this is beyond your life and mine, beyond Minnesota or the U.S. God dreams this for all people.

And if the fire of the Holy Spirit draws you into that way of life, that path, that hope, you’re going to see some divisions. In families, yes. But even in the Christian faith. So many who bear Christ’s name are working against Christ’s way, God’s path the Spirit is firing us up to walk. They’re promoting hatred and destruction and oppression in the name of Christ.

Jesus would prefer all God’s children were together on the side of God’s mercy and justice, afire to work for the healing of all things. Right now, and maybe for a long time, it’s going to split people from each other. But he’d still prefer you’d be rekindled, alight with the Spirit for this work, this life.

So you and I come here every week to be relighted, rekindled.

We may not see the healing of all things, or even much of a small part, the preacher of Hebrews reminds us. But we’re following Jesus on his path and even our small part will make a difference. As Rabbi Rami Shapiro has said, “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work. Neither are you free to abandon it.”[1] It is enough for you to be you, to be kindled with the Spirit to love as Christ in your place.

And remember, you and I, and all who love God’s justice and mercy and are led by God to Christ’s path, are not alone. We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses of those who have gone before us, who now are joined by our brother, Gary, witnesses who know how hard it is to stay afire, how challenging the divisions can be, how daunting the world’s grief really is, and who are cheering you, and me, and all God’s faithful ones to keep at it.

We need God’s fire. There may be divisions. But in the Spirit we keep following Jesus on his path of faithfulness, trusting it is the way of life for all things, surrounded by witnesses cheering us on.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

[1] Rabbi Rami Shapiro, paraphrase and trope on a portion of the Pirke Avot (Sayings of the Fathers, Talmud)

Abundant life is about who you treasure, not what. Because God treasures you, and all God’s children, and will help you do the same.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 18 C
Text: Luke 12:13-21

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

This is a familiar pain.

A beloved parent dies, and the children become hyenas, fighting each other over the carcass, wanting all the scraps they believe they deserve. It’s ugly and heartbreaking to witness or experience, especially when such a fight would break the parent’s heart. That’s what’s happening here. Our friend thinks Jesus should arbitrate this family dispute, force the brother to share the inheritance.

The tragedy in these situations is that the family ceases to be a family. Siblings become opponents, enemies. People don’t speak for years, decades, sometimes never reconciling.

What this brother treasures is the inheritance. What he needs more than anything is to treasure his brother, treasure the relationship, treasure the family. No inheritance is worth that.

Until our friend understands that life abundant and worth living is about who you treasure, not what, Jesus can’t help him.

Treasuring the whats gets us into trouble every time.

Jesus speaks today about the desire for money, because it’s money our friend treasures. But what causes all the pain and suffering in this world, and even in your life, is when people treasure the what, not the who. Sometimes it is money. Sometimes something else.

If you treasure being right, then when you disagree with loved ones someone will be a winner and someone a loser. Someone you love is hurt because you treasured the what, not the who.

If you treasure safety and comfort, then when you make buying decisions, when you vote, when you live in the world, you will support systems that provide you what you want at the cost of your neighbors. Someone suffers because you treasured the what more than the who.

When our society treasures ideas and opinions more than people, laws trample over people, crush them, kill them. Polarized political fighting happens when people forget the who – that is, the people who are deeply affected – and treasure the what – being right, getting their way, not having their privilege challenged, denying their own prejudice and bias.

Everything that ails our society, our culture, our personal lives, can be traced to treasuring a thing rather than a person. No thing is more valuable than a child of God. No inheritance, no perceived right, no need to win, no stubborn refusal to learn and grow, no principle, no doctrine. That’s what Jesus keeps saying.

The last time this summer someone tried to get Jesus to give him what he wanted, Jesus focused on love of God and love of neighbor.

He taught that eternal life isn’t a thing to be received, it can only be lived, right now, in love of God and love of neighbor. Because love of God and neighbor also isn’t a what, a thing to be believed. It’s a way of life that, when lived, focuses you and me on what really is valuable, what treasure really matters to us.

We start with love of God because God is the first Who we can truly treasure.

God is not a what to pontificate about or to define or to fight about.

The holy and Triune God who made all things is a Who, who loves you and the whole creation enough to die for you and the whole creation. Who came in person, in Christ Jesus, to show you, and me, and all people, the face of God, the heart of God’s love. To give tangible proof that you, and I, and all people, and the whole creation, are beloved.

That’s the Who you want to treasure first: the God who loves you beyond death itself, who will always be with you and give you life. Treasure God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind and all your strength, because God treasures you with all God’s heart and soul and mind and strength.

Treasure that. Lean into that: you are God’s beloved.

And when you treasure the God who treasures you, you are changed.

The Word of God’s love for you and the creation wraps in and around your heart, and you are transformed into someone who loves in the same way, who treasures the who, not the what.

This Meal Christ gives works its way into your cells, your bones, your breath, and transforms you into someone who treasures your neighbor as you are treasured.

This Spirit God fills you with stirs in you and shapes your heart and your mind and your soul and your strength and creates a new person who loves and treasures all God’s children.

If our friend today really wanted Jesus’ help, he could have asked, “Teacher, could you help me and my brother reconcile? I really miss him.” Jesus would have loved to help with that.

And when this value system, this treasuring, spreads throughout the family of God on this earth, no oppression or suffering or systems or laws will be able to withstand it.

We can help each other a lot in this.

If our conversation and lives – whether personal or communal – start focusing on things, protecting institutions, defending points of view, being right, or whatever, we can say to each other or to ourselves, “who is it we’re not treasuring right now?”

If our life together starts veering into abstract things we think and argue, even about God, we can say to each other, “where is God in all of this and how can we treasure God’s presence here? How is God’s love shaping us and our lives?”

Abundant life is lived with whos not whats. And God deeply desires you to know abundant life. And me, too. And all God’s children.

That’s something worth treasuring, for the rest of your life.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

God is here – in your life, in this world – and will help you let go of your anxiety and distractions so you can see God’s grace and find the blessing God brings.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 16 C
Texts: Luke 10:38-42; Genesis 18:1-10a

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

Abraham and Martha honored a sacred obligation in their culture.

Abraham would have been shamed if he’d let these three strangers walk by without offering hospitality. Martha did the only thing acceptable when a guest appears, welcomed them into her home.

And in both households two critical roles of hospitality were done well. Food and refreshment is central to hospitality, and Sarah and the servant prepared that for their guests, while Martha did that for Jesus.

But someone also needs to attend to the guests. You can’t just leave them alone in your entryway, or standing outside. So Abraham was with his three guests, found them shade under the tree. Mary sat with Jesus, made him welcome as the meal was prepared, attended to his needs.

We’re not going to pit these two sisters against each other. Jesus never did. The important thing in both these stories is not who had to do what role. All offered faithful, welcoming hospitality, gave blessing and gift. So if the problem isn’t that Martha cooked while Mary lounged, a completely unfair assessment, what is it?

It’s simple: Martha was “worried and distracted by many things,” Jesus says.

Maybe by whether the meal was coming together. Maybe Jesus was a surprise guest, and she worried whether she had enough in the house. Maybe she’d just had a hard week. Maybe Lazarus was looking tired and Martha was starting to worry he might be sick with something. Who knows?

Regardless of source, her anxiety and worry distracted her from enjoying Jesus’ visit.

I get that. There’ve been times when I was the main one preparing the meal for guests and I was anxious and distracted. Not about being the one making the meal – I enjoy that. It could have been anything. And then I’d feel, after the guests had left, that my state of mind cost me the pleasure of having them there.

Maybe you remember a celebration where you just weren’t fully present because your mind or spirit were roiled up, and afterward it felt like you missed all the fun. Or something you long expected ended up a disappointment because of your state when it actually happened. Maybe even here, in this place, you’ve missed out on the grace of the beautiful music, or God’s Word, or the Meal, because of your distraction.

But what made it worse for Martha was that God was visiting her house.

Like Abraham and Sarah. This wasn’t an ordinary guest, this was God-with-us, in our human flesh. And that was a huge loss for Martha. Because her problem really wasn’t her sister Mary, or cooking the meal. You know what it’s like to blurt out something in your worry or anxiety that’s only masking your deeper concerns, or to say something you regret. If she really wanted Mary to help, she’d have found a way to ask. They loved each other.

But she spoke to Jesus. And her question is deeply revealing of her anxiety: “Lord, do you not care?” She’s worried about her place in Jesus’ love.

And sadly, because of her anxiety and distraction, even if Jesus acted in love toward her, she probably missed it. We know that feeling, being our own worst enemies and missing what we dearly want because we’re in a state where we can’t see it. And so Martha misses the very presence of God in her house.

And that’s how you know what the “better part” is that Jesus hopes Martha can find.

And you, too. It has nothing to do with what roles you and I are playing in our lives, whether we’re like Martha, or Mary, or Sarah and the servant, or Abraham. The better part is learning to recognize God’s presence in your life, in this world, for healing and hope. And if you’re worried and distracted by many things, it’s going to be hard.

Do you feel despair and fear over the condition of our world, like so many of us do? It’s legitimate. But if that takes you over, you’ll lose the ability to see where God is moving and acting in this world.

Are you anxious about threatening, uncontrollable things in your life, or that of those you love? Most of us have felt that. But if you and I lean into that anxiety, we might lose the eyes to see where God’s love is moving and touching and bringing life.

And if you feel guilt or suffer from fear that you’re not enough, that you’ve done things you’re ashamed of, again, we’ve all felt that. But if that distracts and dominates your heart, how will you see when God looks at you with the deepest love and says, “you are my precious one, always?”

This is why you and I come here every week: to learn to see God’s presence in our lives and the world.

Sure, sometimes our distractions win the day, even here. But here we can find quiet for our spirit to breathe and rest. God’s gift of music pulls us out of ourselves and draws us into the presence of God. God’s Word speaks into our hearts of God’s hope for justice in this world, and calls us beloved. God feeds us with goodness and love. Here we learn what it is to be on holy ground, to see and sense God’s presence.

Here you also learn that all ground is holy, there’s no such distinction as sacred and secular. Your eyes are opened so when you step out into your life, into your world, you can see God’s presence everywhere. When you’ve learned here how to drop your anxiety and distraction and find joy in God with you, you’ll be able to do that better out there, in the holy, sacred ground that is all of God’s creation.

This is the better part that will never be taken from you or this world: God is with you, and in this whole creation.

And when God is present, God blesses you with faith and trust to see God even more clearly.

Martha’s trust in Jesus became so deep that, even as her brother was lying in his tomb, she made the Gospels’ greatest declaration of Jesus as God’s Christ, as God’s Son who’s come into the world. Mary’s devotion to Jesus became so profound that, she, and only she, sensed the coming tragedy as Holy Week began, and she poured out her love with costly perfume and her hair over Jesus’ feet. And Abraham and Sarah, each nearly a century old, received the blessing of a child, but more, the blessing of courage and trust that this God they risked everything to follow would always be with them.

That’s the blessing, the better part God wants for you and the whole creation. With the Spirit’s help, even you will be able to see and trust ever more deeply that God is with you and in the world, and rejoice in that.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Life in God, abundant life as Christ offers, is a lived reality, not a thing to have or hold; living in love of God and neighbor is living in God’s new life.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 15 C
Text: Luke 10:25-37

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

You can’t inherit eternal life. It’s not a thing to be possessed.

You can’t receive it or hold it. You can’t get it with a ticket, or own it. Eternal life, the abundant life Christ Jesus wants for you and me and the whole creation, isn’t a thing, a noun. It is only lived, experienced. It’s a verb.

So our friend today is mistaken at the start. He wants to know how to obtain something he thinks Jesus can give. But look at Jesus’ answer.

Love God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and love your neighbor as yourself. Do, this, Jesus says, and you will live. Do this, live this, and you will be living in this life from God you want.

Our friend, and so many like him, including you and me sometimes, believe you do what God wants so you’re rewarded with something.

No, Jesus says. This life isn’t a thing to be won or given. Do this – this love of God and love of neighbor – and you have it, right now, here. In that doing, you will know God’s abundant, eternal, new life.

We recognize our friend’s confusion from other things.

Take physical fitness. That’s not a reward, a present, something you can inherit or buy. No magic pills or tickets will give it to you. Exercise and eat healthily, and you’ll get there. Breaking free of addiction is the same. You can’t order it online or ask someone for it. You find support and guidance, and learn new ways of being, and you live into sobriety, and health.

But both of those things mean big changes in your life, one day at a time. And our friend is smart, like us. He knows that love of God and neighbor will mean changes in his life. Profound changes at times. And that’s not easy. So, rather than focus on the broad, complete love of God and neighbor and all that might mean for his actions, he tries one more time to make a noun the important thing, not the verb, not the doing. Even though doing it will give him exactly what he wants, he decides to limit the category of neighbor instead of focusing on his love.

Let’s talk about who you mean, Jesus. Who is my neighbor? Let’s describe that noun. Then maybe I can find a way to do this.

Well, you can’t trick Jesus.

Jesus sees clearly what he’s doing. Since our friend didn’t respond well to direct teaching, Jesus tries another way. “Let me tell you a story.” A story of someone beaten and left for dead in a ditch, a story of some who walked by and one who didn’t, who helped, who loved.

And Jesus refuses to classify neighbor. The categories mean nothing – priest, Levite, Samaritan, unknown guy in the ditch. What he asks at the end is, who acted as neighbor? Who loved someone here? The only question that matters this moment, this afternoon, tomorrow, next month, next year, is: am I acting in love or not?

Caring about the nouns, the categories we make, instead of the verbs, what we do, has nearly destroyed our world.

For almost half a millennium, racism has existed here because people who looked a certain way ordered their world by defining who was their neighbor, the person they cared about. They decided those of different skin color and culture were not neighbor, not even human, therefore could be enslaved, abused, killed. They were a noun, a thing. Property.

The legal system of this country and our social norms and customs and our cultural understanding have been shaped for hundreds of years on that ordering. We shouldn’t be surprised that we find embedded biases and prejudices in our own hearts and minds. We’ve been cooked in it for centuries.

And for millennia in the Western world, those who identify as male have been in charge. And they ordered their world by defining who was their neighbor, the person they cared about. They decided that everyone who wasn’t male was not neighbor, not fully human. They said that women weren’t capable, weren’t worthy of respect. Didn’t deserve equal pay or rights. Often they were property. A noun, a thing to be controlled. As the highest court in our land just reinforced.

Horrors are done for centuries because no one – especially, tragically, no one who’s been running everything all these years – ever stops and says, “the only thing that matters here is are we loving. Do we love all others as we love ourselves?

But when you focus on the verbs, on what you’re doing, everything changes.

Four decades ago, when Mount Olive began to be a safe, welcoming place for those who were LGBTQ, this community quit playing with nouns. All of the anguish and hatred and fighting over sexual orientation always focused on the nouns – who’s doing what with who, what physical parts belonged with what other ones, who gets to be with whom? Defining people and declaring what that means for the life they can live.

But this community – and thankfully many others – realized the only question was: is loving visible here? Can you see living in faithful, committed ways? Is there forgiving? All verbs. No definitions of the partners needed. The verb is everything, truth is seen in the doing.

What we learned here could change the world. When the only question in voting, in public policy, how you treat people at home, at work, out in the community, when the only question in thinking and acting on what’s wrong with our society and culture is: is this loving?, everything can change. Am I living in the love I know from God? Is our society acting in love? Is this policy a loving thing or not? Are we still objectifying people so that we don’t have to ask the love question?

The verbs are everything, Jesus says. Love God, love neighbor. Do this, and you’ll live. Right now. And so will this world.

Do you want God’s eternal life, God’s abundant life? It’s yours in your living in love of God and neighbor. And when you and I start living this abundant life, and others do, and others do, then this world actually becomes what God has always dreamed. This world will live, right now. Things will change, right now. Joy and hope and healing will begin, right now.

Start with loving your God with everything you are and have. Because when you dive fully into love of God you will find to your joy that you are beloved to God. You will know in your heart and soul and mind and strength how precious you are, how important you are, how much God will risk to live in love with you. That’s eternal life, right there.

And then, filled to the brim with that love in and from God, love of neighbor’s the only natural action. It pours out from you and me, and changes the world. That’s abundant life, right there.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. And love your neighbor as yourself. Do this, and you will live.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen