Week 4: You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies . . . my cup overflows . . .

More Sheep, No Walls

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Texts: Psalm 23; John 10:14-16; Ephesians 2:13-22

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

It’s strange that they left Jerusalem then.

After seeing Jesus alive again in the Upper Room, some of his disciples went north to Galilee. They seem aimless; finally Peter decides to go fishing.

They’d failed Jesus in every imaginable way. Betrayal, running away, denying any ties with him. They cowardly abandoned him to his death. In the Upper Room they had very little time to talk with him. They must have dreaded the confrontation that they thought had to come, telling him why they’d left him in his deepest need. Maybe that’s why they ran away home.

As morning came with no fish caught, just as when they first began to follow Jesus, a stranger directs them to recast the nets and they catch a huge amount of fish. But that’s not the miracle here.

This is the miracle: as they came to shore, there was a charcoal fire burning with fish and bread on it. Jesus was making a meal for them.

In that culture, you don’t eat with your enemies. To eat with someone and then betray them was a despicable act. These disciples had done just that. They were clearly his enemies by any cultural standard.

But Jesus spread a meal out on the beach and said, “Come, and eat breakfast.”

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies,” David sings.

Do you see? David believes that the meal the true God spreads before him is a meal of reconciliation with his enemies.

How have we missed this? David knew how to sing of God’s protection from enemies. Psalm 27, Psalm 46, Psalm 91, all beloved, all speak of God’s protection from armies, earthquakes, poisonous enemies.

But when David sings to his Shepherd, he rejoices in the meal the Shepherd puts out in front of him and his enemies. This can only be a meal of life and forgiveness and welcome and healing. Because when you eat with your enemies, they are no longer your enemies.

Listen to your Shepherd:

“I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”

There are other sheep. Sheep that don’t belong to our fold. That means sheep we don’t know, but Jesus does. It also means sheep that we don’t consider part of us. Enemies.

Sundays this Lent we’ve been hearing about not rejecting others from God’s love. But Jesus challenges you to go further. He wants all God’s sheep together, even enemies. Maybe you don’t think you have enemies. Jesus also means people who hurt you, treat you badly, hate you. People who make you sad.

They’re mine, too, Jesus says. I invite everyone to eat and be filled at the meal I prepare for you. Praying for your enemies, loving them, is just the beginning. Christ’s invited them to the dinner party, too.

Christ’s Supper feeds us for our journey. It also breaks down walls.

We gather for Eucharist every week because we want to eat at Jesus’ table. We want forgiveness and life and salvation, the gifts Christ offers in his body and blood. In this meal we are made one as a community and blessed with the life and love of God.

But when our Good Shepherd throws a feast it’s a feast of reconciliation for all. Enemies are brought to the table and cease being enemies. Those who hurt or hate us are part of our flock, too. All creatures are brought together.

In Christ’s flesh, Paul says, in this body and blood given at the cross and offered in this Lord’s Supper, all divisions are healed. All walls are broken down. The hostility we have with any of God’s children is ended.

What if we saw the Lord’s Supper not as a meal for insiders, but saw it as David saw the Shepherd’s feast, as Jesus saw it? What if we proclaimed the Eucharist as Christ’s gift to the world, offering bread and wine, the very life of God, as a way God breaks down walls and opens arms to embrace?

We don’t even eat it with all other Christians now. What a disgrace. We start there. And then follow where God’s Spirit leads us.

This is the abundant, overflowing cup David proclaims.

When all things, all creatures, all creation is restored, God’s abundance will pour out on all and all will be filled, satisfied, loved, blessed, and live in peace.

It sounds like a naïve dream to the world. But you and I belong to the Good Shepherd of the whole creation, who will have everyone at the dinner party, who spreads a table in the presence of everyone. God’s meal will do the healing and reconciling. It’s not naïve, it’s the very plan of God for the healing of the world.

Just invite as many as you can – even those who hurt or hate you – to come to dinner. Christ will take care of the rest. Because everyone is, after all, a sheep of this Good Shepherd.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Week 3: Even though I walk through the valley . . . I fear no evil, for you are with me

Even Though

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Texts: Psalm 23; Romans 8:31-39; John 10:27-30

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

Why is this so hard to remember?

Paul says nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Absolutely nothing. Jesus himself claims that he holds all his sheep in his hands and nothing, absolutely nothing, can snatch them out.

We know our Isaiah, too. In chapter 43, God promises that no matter what happens to us, fire or flood, God knows us by name, loves us, and God will be with us always.

We know this. The Scriptures are full of this witness.

So why do we fall apart when bad things happen? Why do we try to come up with rationales for God’s involvement? Like telling someone who suffers that God has a plan and that explains it. Or panicking that God must be punishing us. Why can’t we remember what God keeps promising?

We know suffering and death are a reality of life. It’s just that somewhere we got the idea that a respectable God would prevent them.

For the last six or seven millennia since humanity started getting together in civilizations, suffering and death have been a pretty highly discussed topic. As humans wondered about why things happened, from storms to plagues, they imagined that gods of some kind were responsible.

We still play that game. Idiots claim that a hurricane’s devastation is God’s punishment on that city. Or tell someone that their disease must have a divine reason. But even without those blowhards, people of many faiths easily fall into the “God is responsible” talk when tragedy strikes. Or they go the other way, saying, “Why would God allow this?”

Human beings seem to want God-sized fixes and answers to pain and suffering. But that leads to a theology of reward and protection, where your safety depends on picking the right god, or doing the right religious actions. That’s pretty dangerous if you’re someone who makes mistakes. What if your house was destroyed in a tornado and your neighbor’s wasn’t? Is that your fault? Ask Job how well this theology works in real life.

The good news is, that’s not how the God we worship operates.

The God whom we name as Triune, the God who first spoke to the Hebrew people, is a God we have met through revelation.

We belong to a nearly 4,000-year line of believers in a God who reached out to humanity to have a relationship with us. A relationship that helps us understand God’s place in our suffering, among many other things.

I AM WHO I AM took pains to teach Israel not to expect to avoid evil, but to trust that God would be with them. We see this throughout the Hebrew Scripture. Even when God in anger threatens destruction we repeatedly see God pull back out of love.

Jesus reveals God’s deepest truth to us and throughout his teachings he repeatedly declares God’s love for all people. But he never promises an absence of pain or suffering or even death. Yet today he claims that none of his sheep, not one, can be snatched from him. Not even by death.

Paul’s magnificent hymn to God’s love in Romans 8 just deepens that. There’s nothing Paul can think of or name, from life to death, from past to future, nothing that can separate us from God’s love in Christ.

In all of these witnesses, there is honesty: bad things will happen to God’s people. And there is promise: God will always be with you.

David’s psalm beautifully sings the same song.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” David sang, “I fear no evil, for you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” David, the shepherd, knows a shepherd can’t keep all the sheep from harm all the time. Storms come with lightning and floods, predators lurk in the shadows on the edges, sheep are harmed. Some will die.

But a good shepherd stays with the sheep. Calms them in the storms. Holds them when they fear. Risks his life. Uses the staff to guide, pull out of cracks, keep off predators. That staff is a comfort if you’re a frightened sheep.

The God David sings to in Psalm 23 is the same God whose face Jesus reveals to us, the same God who first called to Abraham in the wilderness.

And this God walks with you in all things, whatever valleys or scary woods you’re walking in as you live your journey of life. Nothing can snatch you out of God’s hand. Because God, in Christ Jesus, didn’t avoid suffering and death to reveal how loved you are, how loved the creation is. The true God entered suffering and death to hold on to you and to me, and broke through death into life. How will anyone ever tear you out of the hands of such a God?

Still: we wonder just how is God with us.

If you’re facing suffering or tragedy, or nearing death, just having someone say, “God is with you” might feel a little thin on sustenance.

But this is something we also sometimes forget: Jesus created the Church to be Christ in the world. We are God’s grace to each other. Don’t undervalue this. God’s hands are the hands of your neighbor who holds yours in your pain. God’s arms are the arms of your friend who hugs you in your grief. God’s ears are the ears of your loved one who listens to your sorrow.

God isn’t limited by people, either. Jesus proclaims the Triune God desires a deep relationship of love and care with you. “Abide in me,” Jesus said, be connected to me like a branch to a vine, and you’ll know life. This happens when prayer ceases to be about asking for things and becomes a life lived listening for God in every moment and every breath. The God you meet in worship, who feeds you with Word and Sacrament, this God longs to spend your days with you, live in your heart and mind. The more you are open to being in God’s presence at all times, the more you realize God is also with you in suffering and grief and death. To give you inner strength and hope and courage. To hold you at your deepest core, so you know you are not alone.

“Even though” . . . those are David’s words of life.

Even though I walk in death’s valley, I’m not afraid, David teaches you to sing today.

Because if Christ is risen from the dead, then Paul’s right, not even death can separate you from God’s love. And that means nothing can ultimately ever harm you.

That’s why David reminds you you don’t have to limit it to death. Whatever valley or thorny woods you find yourself in, just listen, and you will hear God’s measured steps at your side. You’ll hear God’s breath saying “I am here, and I love you.” You’ll know that you are safe, no matter what happens.

Even though bad things will happen, I will not fear. Not even death. Because you are with me, my God.

You can trust that forever.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Week 2: You restore my soul . . . you lead me in right paths for your name’s sake . . .

Course Correction

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Texts: Psalm 23; Romans 12:1-2, 9-18; John 10:4, 11-13

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

We might do well to listen to David and re-think our view of sin and forgiveness.

We’re used to thinking of our sin and God’s forgiveness in legal terms. We do wrong, and deserve punishment. God, in mercy, forgives, and takes away our punishment. This legal transaction idea has ancient roots and is one of our first, instinctive thoughts when we think of sin.

But it’s not the dominant biblical view of sin and forgiveness. It’s there in the Bible, it’s just not primary. It also doesn’t translate into human relationships, and Jesus consistently referred to our relationships as ways to understand how God is in relationship with us. Jesus said, imagine God as a father. Think of how humans parent, and know God is far above that in love and wisdom and care.

But a legal view of sin and forgiveness makes no sense in our relationships. If I do something wrong to you and ask your forgiveness, I’m not doing it to avoid punishment. You can’t send me to jail, or to hell, or even force me to take a time-out. I ask forgiveness because I’ve damaged our relationship and I’d like it to be healed. I’d like us to start on a new path together, and my sin needs to be forgiven for that to happen. And that’s actually the prominent biblical way of understanding God’s forgiveness, and it’s certainly Jesus’ way.

And, a legal view of sin and forgiveness doesn’t account for God’s pre-existing, continuous love for humanity. The love the Bible says God has is foolish, breaks all rules, and bursts the seams of any container that tries to hold it back. God’s love as we see in the Bible doesn’t care about accounting and paying debt. God’s love for humanity and the whole creation is an unstoppable force of grace for all.

Psalm 23 gives us a truer way to talk about sin and forgiveness.

David sings that the true God restores our souls and leads us on right paths for the sake of God’s name. David may not call this confession and absolution, but that’s exactly what it is.

Forgiveness for David is having your soul restored. It’s having what is broken inside you healed. “Create in me a clean heart, O God,” we sing today in his confessional Psalm 51. “You restore my soul,” we sing in Psalm 23. Forgiveness as God’s healing of our very inner heart is not only consistent with the biblical witness of God’s love, it’s also consistent with the biblical witness of God’s plan for all humanity.

God created us to be loving creatures who cared for the creation, who loved God with all our heart and strength, and who loved each other fully. If forgiveness is just avoiding punishment, love of God and neighbor won’t result. What we need is a healed, restored heart and soul.

And then we get set back on the right path, the path of life. The path that leads to green pastures and still waters. The path of abundance. “You lead me in right paths for your name’s sake,” David sang. That’s the goal of forgiveness: with hearts restored, we now follow Christ on new paths that lead to hope and healing and life, not despair and brokenness and death. Paths of a transformed heart, like Paul talks about: paths of love, kindness, hope, patience, generosity, and peacemaking with all.

David’s wisdom in this psalm also is to make us the sheep of a shepherd.

A shepherd doesn’t beat her sheep if they stray, or kill them because they went the wrong way. Obviously, a shepherd doesn’t want his sheep to go places where they can be harmed, or harm others. But a good shepherd heals the sheep when they get stuck in the thorns, or willfully get into a rocky place where they’re hurt, then sets them back on the path, and leads them to pasture and water and life. David says, “that’s what God does for us.”

And if the sheep really get into trouble, the shepherd might even risk his life. Jesus says that a good shepherd is willing to lay down his life for the sheep. How different that is than thinking of our sin in crime and punishment terms! This is the only way of thinking of sin and forgiveness that makes sense of the cross and what the Bible really says God does there.

God’s goal is exactly that of a good shepherd: that you love God and love neighbor and find abundant life. Why would killing you or punishing you help with that? How could making you feel horrible with shame or terrified of judgment ever lead you to love God or neighbor? No, God wants to protect you, and when you stray, when you do wrong, heal you and set you back on a good path, and lead you to life.

And if you resist that love, fight it, God will show you at the cross just how far God is willing to go to love you back home.

The Holy and Triune God is your Good Shepherd, and longs for you to find abundant life.

That’s the hope to hold when you face your sin and brokenness. When you struggle with guilt and shame. You belong to the Good Shepherd who knows you and loves you. Who wants to restore your soul, take away your shame and guilt, and lead you on the paths of life.

And all this, David says, is for the sake of God’s name. You are joined to God’s name in baptism, and that means you belong to God. God’s got a stake in you. For the sake of God’s good name, God will never let you go.

And that’s a promise worth clinging to for the rest of your life.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen