We belong to God; our government and society belong to us. Now that the order is clear, so is our task.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 29 A
Texts: Matthew 22:15-22 (with reference to vv. 34-40, appointed for next week, if Reformation Sunday texts were not used)

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

“Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

The religious leaders in Jerusalem during that week we now call Holy decide to go on the offensive, after Jesus told a bunch of parables they felt threatened by. They try to get Jesus to say something publicly they can use to accuse him of inciting rebellion, get him on record saying he opposed taxes to Caesar. Then they’d have him.

“Give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor,” Jesus says. “Give to God what belongs to God.” The leaders walk away amazed, because he answered in a way they couldn’t use or understand.

Jesus’ answer has multiple possible interpretations, ground for all sorts of claims and actions. And it’s not just an enigma to them. Jesus says to us: you need to know what belongs to the emperor and what belongs to God, and therefore what is owed. You have to figure it out, he says. I can’t do that for you.

There is a twist for us, though: our political system.

We don’t have an emperor, at least if our Constitution is still the law of the land. Unlike Jesus’ Jewish hearers, who had no control of the emperor, no choice but obedience to the emperor’s edicts, we have the ability to elect our rulers at every level. We have the ability to influence the laws that are made, to make our voice heard by our voting and by our speaking to our representatives. Though it is being severely tested these days, the “emperor” – the government at all levels – actually belongs to all of us in this country.

So the order of things for us is radically different to that of Jesus’ time. Jesus’ hearers had competing rulers – God and the emperor. For we who believe in God, who have been baptized into Christ, we only have one ruler above us, and that is the Triune God. The “emperor,” that is, the government, is below us, serves all people. Or we change it if it doesn’t.

But we still have to sort out what we owe, and to whom we owe it.

Jesus’ summary of God’s will is our guide: Love God, and love neighbor.

That’s your path, Jesus will say on this same day in Holy Week, just a few verses after today’s Gospel, your way to fulfill all that God asks of you. “Giving to God what belongs to God” means that we, who love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, or at least know that’s what we aspire to, that we love our neighbor in such a way that God’s priorities are carried out in this world.

And God’s priorities in the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament never waver: God wants no one to be left on the margins of society. God cares for those who are poor and those who hunger and wants them to be filled. God hears those who suffer injustice and oppression and wants our society to be one where all are free, no one is crushed. God loves peace, and wants a world where weapons of war are converted into implements of feeding and nurturing.

This is what belongs to God. And now we know what we owe and to whom.

Since the government belongs to us – and “us” means all of us in this country, of all faiths and of no faith – then how we all order that government, how we create or reform or structure our society is on all of us. And since we who claim faith in Christ know we belong to God, and know what God wants of this world, Jesus’ riddle today says we live our belonging to God in how we live, act, and think politically.

Calling for an end to racism, for the reform of oppressive systems and abusive laws, for a fair minimum wage and affordable housing, for health care for all, for peace, not war, comes from our trust in the God who desires this for all God’s children.

And we have this joy: many of our siblings who are Muslim, and Jewish, and of other faiths, and of no faith, also say, “Those are things we value, too.”

Unlike the Christian right, who openly declare they want the government to support their institutions, be controlled by their people, in short, who want a theocratic government based on their view of Christianity, what we and so many others who are not Christian believe is that a just, caring, fair society where all thrive is the necessary goal for this world.

We Christians come there from our faith stance, from what we read in the Scriptures. But we’re not threatened if others come to the same conclusions as we do for different reasons. Acting politically out of our faith is not us saying we need to be in charge and the rules need to benefit us at the expense of others. Because we belong to God and know God’s priorities, we know it’s not about protecting our particular faith, or even defending God. It’s about working for God’s vision for this world. And we’ll do that with anyone who shares that vision, no matter how they got there, from faith or not, by whatever political party or by none. Love of neighbor is love of neighbor, however it’s arrived at.

“Give to God what belongs to God.” Now we understand what that means for us.

You love God and your neighbor when you vote. You love God and your neighbor when you pay taxes. You love God and your neighbor when you make clear your priority for those taxes and whom you believe should be helped by them. You love God and your neighbor when you bring kindness and compassion to your neighborhood, when you ask it of your city council and your state and national representatives. You love God and your neighbor when you join with others to make this a just and gracious world for all.

The newly appointed General Secretary of the United Church of Canada, the Rev. Michael Blair, recently said in a podcast, “It is not that the Church of God has a mission in the world, but the God of mission has a Church in the world.” ^[1] That’s us. We’re not the only tool God has, the God of mission inspires people in many and varied ways.

But we’re definitely one of God’s tools. Because we know belong to God. And this civic society and government – the “emperor” – belongs to us. And the God of mission needs us to do that mission, for the sake of all God’s children and the creation.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

^[1] Said in the podcast “Henri Nouwen, Now & Then,” Oct. 8, 2020; henrinouwen.org/now-then-michael-blair/

The Triune God reverses from wrath and enters into the darkness and evil of this world to bear the weight for us, to offer us peace and joy in the love of God that embraces us and the creation.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 28 A
Texts: Exodus 32:1-14; Psalm 106:1-6, 19-23; Philippians 4:1-9; Matthew 22:1-14

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

God’s anger is terrifying in these readings.

The God who rescued Israel from Egypt, carried them through the Red Sea, fed and watered them in the wilderness is now, at the foot of Mount Sinai, threatening to “consume them.” “Let me alone,” God says to Moses, “so that my wrath may burn hot against them.” God will make Moses the new Abraham, once God has destroyed the others.

If we hear today’s parable in the usual way and assume the ruler in the story stands for the Triune God, then the anger of God in this parable equals the anger at Sinai. The ruler sends troops to the city of those who rejected the invitation, destroys them all, and burns their city.

No one disputes that the Holy and Triune God has every right to be angry at whatever God might be angry at. If we, created in the divine image, can and do get angry, of course we have to believe God can and does. It’s just horrifying to witness here.

It’s not a surprise, though.

God’s anger at Sinai is because these people whom God lovingly broke out of oppression and slavery, saved from the Egyptian army, and provided for in their wandering, have created an idol out of gold and held an orgy in honor of it. Only forty days and nights after receiving the Ten Commandments, Israel’s breaking a bunch of them.

And in the parable, those invited to the wedding feast not only reject the invitation, they mock it. Some go back to their own business, but others seize the representatives and kill them. The ruler is justifiably furious about the treatment of the invitation and these faithful servants.

If we assume that the Holy and Triune God can and does get angry over human behavior, we’re surely not surprised that idolatry, unfaithfulness, blasphemy, and murder would inspire such righteous wrath.

Here’s what we don’t see coming: the Holy and Triune God doesn’t act on this wrath.

At Sinai, Moses “stood in the breach,” as we sang with the psalmist today, and said firmly to the God of the universe: “you can’t do that.” Moses argued that God’s reputation was at stake, that Egypt would witness the destruction of these people and conclude that their God was evil and brought them out just to kill them. And God WHO IS changed God’s own mind about the disaster planned for Israel.

But, you rightly notice, if in the parable we see the ruler as standing for God, there’s no Moses here. The ruler simply sends in the army, kills the wrongdoers, and burns down the city.

The problem is that interpretation doesn’t take into account the end of the parable.

Jesus told this parable in the middle of Holy Week. That accounts for Jesus’ anger and strong language. Jesus is, of course, under tremendous pressure and deeply frustrated at the rejection of the elders of God’s people, as his Holy Week parables reveal. But today’s parable doesn’t end here, where we stopped. This is around Wednesday of Holy Week, and within twenty-four hours Jesus will be kneeling in anguish in Gethsemane. Within forty-eight hours he’ll be dying on the cross. That’s where this parable ends.

And there’s your Moses, my friends. The Holy and Triune God doesn’t need Moses to “stand in the breach” on behalf of God’s people anymore. The Incarnate Son of God stands there now.

In Gethsemane Jesus struggles between wanting to destroy the leaders who rejected God’s embrace, and the divine desire to enter fully into the evil and pain and darkness of the world to draw all things back into God.

And we know Jesus’ final decision in Gethsemane. He will not bring armies of angels to destroy his enemies. He will allow himself to be arrested and tortured and brutally killed. He will, in fact, to use his own words, willingly go into the “outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth” himself. That’s where the ruler in this parable is at the end of it.

This all deeply matters to you and me. It’s not just about the past.

Even if our idolatry doesn’t take the form of a golden calf and an orgy, we seek other things to rule us, things that are more comfortable, visible, tangible, than a God who cannot be seen, who challenges us to live in God’s way. That’s undeniable. What we look to for our greatest good – our finances, our reputation, the approval of others, our own way of doing things, whatever– becomes the driving force in our decisions and actions, not God.

And the invitation to join all people at God’s feast of life, to see God’s celebration as the point of this life and the shape of the next, seems too good to pass up. But we humans pretty easily set aside God’s inclusive invitation in favor of a narrow, self-centered, smaller view that we’re what’s important, our needs are what we care about. Everyone else is on their own.

Seeing God’s wrath at idolatry and rejection is terrifying because we know we do the same things.

Yet Paul says to you today: Rejoice. Don’t be anxious. God is near.

We’ve heard Paul tell us these past weeks that Christ Jesus humbled himself and endured death on the cross, that that is God’s plan and God’s loving action. Not wrath. Not destruction.

And so, Paul has told us, that means that belonging to such a God gives you the confidence, as it did Paul, to live in whatever circumstances you find yourself. Paul knows his sin and failing, and trusts that God’s answer in Christ is grace, not judgment, because of the cross. Paul knows torture, rejection, imprisonment, hunger, suffering, because of following Christ. And yet he is at peace, even in his jail cell, because Christ is with him in the darkness.

It’s simple, Paul says. Jesus reveals that God’s mind is changed to love, not wrath.

So, rejoice in God’s changed mind, Paul says. Pray with thanksgiving to the God who is near you, and God will calm your anxious heart. Focus on what is good, honorable, commendable, just, pure, Paul says. It will help you not be overwhelmed by all the problems we face.

And keep on doing the things you’ve learned and received and heard in Christ, Paul says. Keep being faithful. Stand in the breach for others if they need it, because there is pain and suffering in this world, even if we learn to focus on the good and the commendable and the beautiful. You might be needed in the breach as Christ was needed, to offer your life as love to your neighbor and to the world.

And when you do all these things, Paul says, you will find the God of peace is with you. Not the God of wrath. And that’s life for you, and for the world.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

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

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

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

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

Jesus says so, not his enemies.

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

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

Jesus is just telling the truth, nothing more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so will my whole creation.”

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

God provides what we need for this day to quench our thirst and sustain us on our journey.

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 26 A
Texts: Exodus 17: 1-7

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 people of God are thirsty.

Days and nights on this wilderness journey. Days blending together. Losing track of time. Forgetting the past. Wanting to turn back time. Frustrated. Uncertain. Powerless. Angry. Anxious. Afraid. And thirsty.

Thirst so consuming that the Israelites suggest turning back to Egypt, saying to Moses, “why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?”

Thirst so consuming that they forget about the oppressive system they were living under. Can you blame them? At least in Egypt there was water… even if it was toxic water.

Thirst so consuming that they quarrel with God saying, “is God really among us or not?”

Thirst so consuming they are questioning if they are going to be able to survive to sustain their community during this journey. Wondering if the next generations will have a future where they can thrive.

I don’t know about you. But I am thirsty. And really, it wasn’t until reading and meditating on this story of the people of Israel that I realized I am thirsty all of the time.

Are you thirsty?

Thirsty from all that is happening around the world that is dehydrating our souls?

Creation is crying out as we witness to the effects of climate change. The U.S. has now reached over 200,000 deaths caused by COVID-19 and this virus continues to threaten our lives and our communities. The election is just weeks away. And there is still no justice for Breonna Taylor and George Floyd among countless others.

This is just to name a few major things on a societal level. Recognizing that there is still so much happening in our personal lives and in this community.

Author and Professor Kate Bowler wrote this week, “Lord, we are moving through time no longer believing it is taking us to somewhere good. Mark our Paths. Lead us now.”

Let me say that again. Bowler quarrels with God, “we are moving through time no longer believing it is taking us to somewhere good. Mark our Paths. Lead us now.”

In times like these we thirst with the Israelites asking God, “are you with us or not?”

When the Israelites begin to set up camp at Rephidim, they know that it is not the place where God is leading them. In order to settle in a new place, there needs to be a good source of water. If there isn’t flowing water, they know they have not reached the promised land.

No water = no life.

Their feet are blistered. Their backs aching from carrying their whole lives on their shoulders. Watching as members of the community, especially their children, their elders, and their livestock, suffer.

They stop to rest for the evening and set up camp. But they know they won’t be staying there long. What’s the point of getting comfortable if there is no water?

Even the journey can be deceiving. They possibly can hear the running water as they lay awake at night, but the water is nowhere in sight. They know it has to exist, but they don’t know what it will taste like.

Last week, we listened as we heard that these people were provided with an abundance of manna and quail. Maybe once they had food, they thought they were one step closer. An appetizer to what will be a full course meal of milk and honey.

A promised land so wonderful that the whole community could thrive.

But they are not there yet.

And the people of God are afraid.

They fear that they may not live to see another day let alone make it to the promised land.

We hear this fear in Moses as he cries to God, “what shall I do with these people? They are almost ready to stone me.” Moses is representing his fear and the fear of the people.

God in return tells Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” So Moses struck the rock in sight of the Elders of Israel.

Water comes out of the rock so that the people may drink. The source of water isn’t enough for the people to build their community around it. But it is enough to quench their thirst.

When God’s people drink of this water, their thirst is no longer all consuming. The flowing water is all that they need for today.

Because…

Water for today = Life for tomorrow
Water for today = Hope for tomorrow
Water for today = Nourishment for the Journey

Like the people of Israel, we don’t know what the promised land here on earth will look like. But we know God is leading us there. Not because we see it, or hear it, or taste it. But because we know that God is with because God is marking our journey.

When Moses strikes the rock, he does so in the sight of the Elders. This is a sign of hope. A sign that the people of God are going to be transformed from generation to generation. God is showing the Elders how to find hope. This hope is going to live through the generations.

God shows us…

How to find life in ordinary objects
How to find hope in ordinary places
How to find nourishment in unexpected ways

People of God, We are Thirsty.

But we have been on this wilderness journey far too long to turn back now.

So for today, for the next week, maybe for the next month. However long. Let’s seek out our rock of life-giving water that God is leading us to and camp out for a while. Long enough to quench the thirst of today and give us nourishment for the journey ahead.

Water = Life

And we have water for today.

Amen.
And thanks be to God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is not how our world works, is it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the name of Jesus. Amen