Sunday, August 11, 2019

Look toward heaven and count the stars

Look toward heaven and count the stars

Sermon for Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
Good Samaritan Lutheran Ministry
August 11, 2019

Gen 15:1-6; Heb 11:1-3,8-16; Luke 12:32-40

Good afternoon, Good Samaritan! I am so glad that all of you are here today. I am glad that God has called each one of us to be here in this place, at this time, together. It is no accident. Pamoja sisi ni kanisa. We are church together. And we are family. Welcome home. In my heart, you shine like stars. You are exactly what heaven looks like. Now we might not always feel like stars, but faith tells us that this is true. Our reading from Hebrews tells us, “Faith is the assurance to things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

Let us pray:
Gracious God, you have called us from every tribe, from every nation, and from every language to stand before you, to gather around your throne where your Lamb is seated. Give us today a vision. Give us faith to see your vision. May we see in each other what you see in us. How we are loved, how we are made righteous, how we are beautiful in your sight, O God Most High! So open our eyes, Lord, open our ears, open our hearts to hear what the Spirit would say to us this day. And may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord our Rock and Redeemer. In your Son’s precious name, Amen.

Now I am not much of a preacher and I don’t tell jokes well. But the first time I preached here I got a good laugh when I asked this question: Before you came to this country, did you think the United States would be a Promised Land? Maybe you hoped that would be the case, maybe you needed that to be true. But I’m sure it did not take long on the ground to come to different conclusions.

Indeed my heart is broken to see how my country has turned it back on asylum seekers and refugees. Indeed devils fill the land stoking fear and hatred of immigrants. At our southern borders, children are being torn away from parents seeking asylum. They are being locking up in cages without enough food, water, blanket, or even space to lie down on the cold hard floor to sleep. It is without mercy. It is degrading and dehumanize by design. ICE raids in Mississippi and other states are dragging parents away for deportation, leaving crying children in the wake with no one to care for them.

This is sick. My country is not morally or spiritually well. And as a citizen, I want to say this is not my country. This is not the America that I love. We are better than this. But indeed, this is who we are. These are manifestations of our American demons, demons of hatred, cruelty and racism that have plagued our republic from the beginning. We now see how very little it take to stir up these demon and drag us headlong into sin as a people. We have submitted to spiritual wickedness in very high places.

This week leaders and delegates of our denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, have been gathering in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, for the annual Churchwide Assembly. This body has taken up two important issues. The first is that the African Descent Lutherans Association, of which this congregation is a member, has asked the Church to make formal apology for the sin of racism and the church’s complicity in the historic mistreatment of people of African decent. By the Grace of God, the ELCA has now made this public Apology and will be working on ways to commemorate this and further the work of racial reconciliation. The second is that the ELCA has resolved to be a Sanctuary Church. This means that as a national denomination we are willing to give sanctuary to immigrants, to shield them physically from arrest and deportation if necessary. For example, if ICE were pursuing an undocumented immigrant, that family could take physical shelter within our churches. In defiance of any law, we would not hand them over to government authorities, but would provide for their needs within our church walls. These two resolutions, The Apology to People of African Descent and the Pledge to be Sanctuary Church, may seem unrelated to each other, but in fact they are deeply related to each other. I will try to explain this both with our scripture readings today and with some US history.

First, let’s consider the passage from Hebrews 11. We read:

8By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance; and he set out, not knowing where he was going.
9By faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign land, living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise.
10For he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.

What was this faith that moved Abraham and Sarah to set out to a new land. They believed that God would give them many heirs, their children would be a mighty nation. But when this promise came to Sarah and Abraham they were childless, and they were really to old ever to have children. The promise, though beautiful, was in practice impossible. In our passage from Genesis, it says that

[The Lord] brought him outside and said,
"Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them."
Then he said to him,
"So shall your descendants be."
6And he believed the LORD; and the LORD reckoned it to him as righteousness.

You see, the way things looked on the land, this whole promise way no-go. It can’t happen. It won’t happen. But God commanded Abraham to look up and see the stars. God said this his how your children will be. Not lifeless in the dust, but lifted up and shining in the night sky. God needed Abraham and Sarah to look up, to see their own life and their children’s as God sees them. You are stars! Now one of our children here is even name, Nyota, which means Star. And Nyota is a beautiful star. But look around, sisi sote ni nyota nzuri, we are all beautiful stars, nyota nyingi, many stars. When we look up with faith, we see how God sees us. We see that we are precious children, each and everyone of us. When we look up with faith, God counts us among the righteous.

But when we look on the ground, we see something else play out. We see how greed and fear can lead to hatred and dehumanization. Racism is sin, make no mistake. Hatred of immigrants is sin too. Both are a blatant refusal to see others as heirs of God’s promise to Abraham. But how do we get out of this? How do we get to a place where we can simply share the land as joint heirs of God’s promise? How do we seek asylum to a better country.

Abraham and Sarah obeyed God and set out to find this place. They did not know where they were going, and often neither do we. By faith Abraham and Sarah actually stayed in the land promised to them, but did not know it. We too find ourselves in this land. Is this our Promised Land, do we know it? Abraham and Sarah lived strangers in a foreign land, even their grandchildren were not counted as citizens of this land. And yet this was truly the land promised to these descendants forever.

When Europeans first landed in the Americas, they saw it as a huge opportunity. The land could be exploited, and its produce could be traded with Europe for great profit. Europeans brought with them guns and diseases that killed of most of the native inhabitants. They tried enslaving native peoples, but under such harsh demands the enslaved natives died too quickly. In their greed, the Europeans set their sights on Africa. Over several centuries, some 12 million souls were taken from Africa and sold into slavery in the Americas. Perhaps some European colonists saw themselves as having been given a Promised Land in this New World, rightly enjoying blessings from their Creator. But what of the Native Americans and what of the enslaved Africans? How could they claim this this land as their inheritance? The natives were exiled, driven out of their ancestral homelands, while the Africans became somebodyelse’s property in a land of bondage. Could these stand with Abraham? Seeing the stars in the night sky, could they also hear a voice whisper, “Look at those stars! So too shall your descendants be.”?

Indeed, Jesus tells us, when we have been ripped from our homelands, when we have been separated from our families, when we have been oppressed in strange lands, “Do not be afraid, my little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” He tells us to sell what we have and give to one another. This is like a purse that no thief can take away. Investing love in each other is like laying up unfailing treasure in heaven. We might not know where we are going or how to get there. But look up at those stars. They are the same stars you saw in Africa. They are the same stars you can see anywhere on this planet. Look up and have faith.

Jesus also tells to be dressed for action and have our lamps lit. The ELCA has declared itself to be a sanctuary church. This is timely. We don’t know how we will be tested in the coming years. But we know that we must be a sanctuary for any person who has no place to go in this land.

Have you heard of the underground railroad? In colonial America, there was a network of people African Americans and Abolitionists who worked together to help enslaved Americas escape slavery. Houses and churches became hidden train stations. Fleeing slavery, if you could find your way to one station, the station master would give you food, shelter, and safe hiding. The station master would also tell you how to get to the next station. You’d leave at night and make it to the next stations. There that station master would set you up for the next leg in your journey to freedom. The Fugitive Slave Act made this an illegal operation in all of the United States, not just the slave states in the south. But Abolitionist churches and families were willing to defy national and state laws to give sanctuary. There were also freed African Americans who would serve as spies posing as slaves. They’d gain entry into plantations and tell those who were enslaved how they could escape, how they could travel the underground railroad to Mexico, Canada, Florida before it became a State or the far west.

You see, this was a resistance movement that helped Americans seek asylum outside of the US. About 100,000 enslaved Americans found freedom this way. But why did they have to flee in this way in the first place. Wasn’t the US, the Land of Liberty, a democracy? Slavery was both a political divide and a political compromise from the very beginning of the Union. Even the US Constitution was formulated to preserve that compromise, even counting slaves as 3/5 of a person. So while some heroic abolitionists may have defied laws to help Americans find asylum in other lands, most churches simply accepted the compromise and allowed slavery to persist until the Civil War. Specifically, the ELCA is apologizing for the complicity of Lutheran churches, largely a complicity of silence and inaction in the long history of racism from the time of slavery and Jim Crow and that persists even to this day. It is fitting that our church renounce the sin of racism even as it pledges itself to give sanctuary.

So Jesus indeed calls us to be dressed for action and to have our lamps lit. We need to read the gospel carefully. Jesus tells us to be a slave waiting for their master to return, so that they might open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. There was a time when churches in the south saw in this some justification for slavery. Indeed, doesn’t Jesus bless slavery when he says, “Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes”? The eyes of racism would easily read it that way, but they would be utterly blind to what follows. Jesus continues to explain how the slave would be blessed. “Truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down, and he will come and serve them.” You see, Jesus turns this whole thing upside down. The master is the one who comes to serve that slave—not the other way around. This master comes to undo the yoke of slavery. This is not a slave master, but master over sin, hell and the grave. This master looks more like a station master or a train master along the underground railroad.

As the church, we should be like the station master who holds out a light for those traveling to freedom. We are ready for action. When we hear a knock on the door, we are prepared to take that soul in, to serve them food, to keep them safe, and to send them on their way to a better country. Are we ready to be that kind of church for one another? If so we might not be far from “the city that has foundations, whose are architect and builder is God.” Indeed, when we become like the master who comes to serve us, God is not ashamed to be our God. He has prepared for us a city. And if we have the faith to see it, we are that city. The master architect and builder is preparing us to be that beautiful city. And we are home. I am so glad you are here. So look up, have faith! You are all stars beautiful, intelligent, spiritual and indeed powerful. Amen.

Sunday, March 31, 2019

All that is mine: the Prodigal’s Brother


All that is mine: the Prodigal’s Brother

Sermon given at Good Samaritan Lutheran Ministry
March 31, 2019

Joshua 5:9-12, Luke 15:11b-32

Greetings Good Samaritan! A couple of months ago, I was talking with Pastor Crispin and complained about something. When preachers preach on the parable of the Prodigal Son, they seem to ignore the prodigal’s older brother. The younger brother who wasted his inheritance and the father who had no problem just accepting him back home get all the attention. But the older brother who worked night and day to see that the family had enough food to eat gets ignored. I should have known better than to complain in church and especially before a Pastor, because usually that means you get volunteered to set right the thing you had just complained about. So Pastor Crispin said that the Prodigal Son lesson is coming on Lent 5, so perhaps I should preach that Sunday. Okay, I agreed. So here I am. And here you are. So I want to preach on the Prodigal’s Brother.

But before I do that I need to say a few words about the reading from Joshua. It is very short, but did you catch what this text is about. The Lord says to Joshua, “Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.” What is this? Remember how the Israelites were enslaved in Egypt. They had been driven to Egypt by famine, but were cruelly treated by Pharaoh and the Egyptian. So God helped them escaped. They celebrated the first Passover the night before they left. The Egyptian army pursued them. But passing through the Red Seas the Israelites found safety, when the sea had swallowed up Pharaoh’s army. Then for forty years, they wandered without a place they could call home. A generation died in the wilderness before God led their children into the land that was promised to them. Moses too died in wilderness. At the end of his life he climbed to the top of a mountain from which his could see the promised land. But it was not for him to lead the Israelites into their inheritance. This was given Joshua, whom Moses had prepared for this day.

I want to ask, how do we know when we have entered the promised land? Last time I preached you laughed when I suggested that perhaps some of you had though the US was the promised land before you came here. But now that you are here maybe this strange place seems much different to you. The Israelites were a displaced people too. They had sought refuge in other lands. And they had seen decades pass in tents with no place to call home. In our text today, they were in Gilgal in the plains just outside of Jericho. They had passed through another sea, the waters of Jordan. They gather 12 dry stones from the floor of the Jordan and placed it at Gilgal. And on this fourteenth night of the month, they celebrated the Passover. You would think that all this was enough to know that they had finally arrived in the Promised Land.

But notice a key point in this scripture. On the day after the Passover, they ate the produce of the land. And the manna that had sustained them through the last 40 years came to an end. God had cut them off from that special food which they had only needed to gather each morning. Instead, the Israelites would need to start growing their own food. They would need to plow the land, sow the land, water the land, tend flocks and fields, and harvest the land. In short, they were to become farmers. How could this be the Promised Land flowing with milk and honey if they had to do so much work? Well, guess what, this was to be their land. It was to be the place where they could raise their families and form stable communities. This all takes work. Lots of work. Endless care and vigilance just to hold onto the inheritance. But indeed, God was with them. The Lord had truly rolled away from them the disgrace of Egypt.

So let us pray: Father, we thank you for bringing us to this place. Generations have sought refuge in you, and so do we. Open our hearts, Father, that we may hear what you have for us today. In Christ you have opened a way for us to come into your kingdom, into our Promised Land. Show us what this means and give us courage to claim this inheritance in you that we share with one another. We ask this in Jesus name. Amen.

So what of these two brothers? The shared an inheritance with their father. Yep, it was a farm. It was endless work. The family was wealthy enough to have servants, but even so there was little time for leisure. There was always something that needed to be fixed, some animal to tend to, some bills to be paid. I also suspect the brothers might not have gotten along very well with each other. The older brother was hard working and very responsible. The younger brother probably resented always being told what to do by his older brother, while the older brother probably resented having to goad his brother into taking little responsibility to help out. I was a younger brother. When I was a kid, my oldest sister would try to get me to clean my room every Saturday. My way of escape was to run out of the house and hang out with my father as he worked. I’m sure this frustrated my sister that I could get away with this week after week. But in the case of the two brothers in our parable, the younger was much more desperate to get away than I was.

What is the value in waiting around for this inheritance anyway? The younger son asked is father to divide up the inheritance between him and his brother. Thinking so little of his family, he gathered up his share of the inheritance and ran off to another country. The father was heartbroken to see his beloved son go. There was no reasoning with this child, and there was no assurance that he would ever come to his senses. I imagine the older brother was angry. How could he show such disrespect for his father and leave him to run the farm on his own. But then again, maybe it was just as well not to have the aggravation with his brother around. He could just tell the servants what needed to be done and not have to argue about it with his brother. So with the younger brother gone, the older brother retreated to his work while his father grieved. That son was as good as dead.

So we know the story. The prodigal blows through his money pretty fast with wild living and worthless companions. A famine strikes the land, and he finds himself broke and friendless. He takes a job slopping hogs, but cannot make enough money to feed himself. He comes to his senses and recognizes that even the servants back home have it much better with his father than the mess he had made of his own life. For the first time in his life, he gets a glimpse of what his inheritance had really been worth, but recognizes that he has thrown it all away. He had sinned against God and his father. He knew that his father was a good man, but was there anything left for him back home. He was ashamed, but maybe he could be taken back in as a servant. Maybe it would be better to take orders from his older brother than to be alone here in this mess, where no one would give him anything.

20So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.

21Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.'22But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.
31Then the father said to him,
32But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'"
23And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.

And they were loud. They were sing and dancing. And this is what totally set off the older brother. Everyone was celebrating, but this brother. He had been toiling in the fields for years doing every task that needed to be done. He had held everything together while his brother had nothing but contempt for the family, the farm and his father. He had seen his father weep for years for all the grief this son had given him. This son had dishonored their shared inheritance. But now this son is being welcomed back with with a big party.

The brother wanted to had nothing to do with this celebration. He was angry and refuse to enter. He could not enter the festivities and greet his brother.

I used to work with a man from Senegal. We shared an office. He was Muslim, and we had many wonderful conversations. One day I asked him how Muslims understood forgiveness. He told me that Allah forgives, but the real problem is forgiving one another. He seemed to say you are truly forgiven until your brother has forgiven you. Hmm, that seems pretty deep, and not far off from what Jesus taught. “Father, forgive us as we forgive one another.”
In our parable today, the father is able to forgive his younger son, even though the older brother is still holding some pretty reasonable grievances. What is a father to do? The older son refuses to enter. So the father goes out to the aggrieved son and pleads with him. And he listens to the son’s complaint.

29But he answered his father,
'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!'
'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.
You see, how is this son going to enter in if he does not forgive his brother? How is he going to be able to sing and to dance if he cannot embrace his brother? What is his inheritance worth if he cannot be reconciled with his brother?

The father says to this good, faithful and very much loved son, “You are always with me, and all that is mine is your.” What is this inheritance? Sure, the older brother will inherit what is left of the farm, all the material possessions. That is a matter of law. But what of this brother who was dead and has come to life? What of the father’s delight for having found what had been lost? This is your brother, ndugu. If you don’t love your brother, you have nothing. This brother who was lost is your inheritance.

Jesus left the story there. He did not go on to say where the younger brother also sought the forgiveness of his older brother, or whether the older brother was able to forgive the younger brother. This is for us to ponder. The father loved these two sons very much. They were his most treasured possessions. But if they could not forgive each other, they would have never received their full inheritance, and they never fully known how much the father loved them both. So we have to ponder what the end of story is. But know that we have been given the ministry of reconciliation. God will be with us and empower us for this work.

How do we know when we have entered the Promised Land? We have our inheritance when we love one another. We enter the promise when we forgive each other. We enter the joy of our Father when we serve and delight in each other. And so here we are Good Samaritan. This is our Promised Land when we welcome one another. We will sing and we will dance. We will learn new languages and we will learn to forgive. Every refugee is our brother and our sister. So let’s celebrate.



Sunday, November 11, 2018

The Widow's Gift


The Widow’s Gift
Good Samaritan Lutheran Ministry
Nov 11, 2018
Mark 12:38-44

Children’s Message

Discuss recent election. Ilhan Omar was born in Mogadishu. Her mother died when she was young and she was raised by her father and grandfather in Somalia. When she was 8 years old her family fled from the Somali Civil War. She was in a refugee camp in Kenya for 4 years before coming to the US. This week Ilhan Omar was elected represent her district in Minnesota in the US Congress. (https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/nov/09/shes-made-us-proud-ilhan-omars-journey-from-somali-refugee-to-us-congresswoman) You will be voters when you become adults. Your vote will matter. Your vote and voice can make sure we elect people like Ilhan Omar, who care about refugees. You do not have a vote just yet, but you do have a voice. You can use your voice to help other voters and politicians understand what kind of America you want to live in, what needs to happen to make this a better place to live. So I want to give you some crayons and poster board. You can draw a picture to show us what you see for America. This is your voice, your vision. We’ll look at your pictures at the end of service.

Sermon

Good afternoon, brothers and sisters. It is good to be here. And it is good to see each one of you here today. We may be a small congregation, but Jesus is here with us today. Let us pray.

Loving God, thank you for gathering us here. Open our ears so that we may hear your Word today. Open our eyes too, so that we can see how you are at work within each of us and through each one of us. May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable to you. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.

Sometimes you can learn a lot about people just by watching them. Even if you can’t understand what they are saying, you can tell a lot by seeing what they do and how they carry themselves.

Jesus and his disciples were in the Temple near the Treasury. There was a collection box at the Treasury. People would line up to make their offerings to God and to the Temple. As you can imagine, there were Temple leaders there, the scribes. They would watch over the collection and would offer up long prayers. You could tell they were important because of the fine robes they wore and how they lifted their voices and hands in gestures of prayer. There were also wealthy people. They too had fine clothing too. They would lift up large sums of money for the collection so that all could see. The crowds took notice of them and the scribes also would fuss over them. They would celebrate their lavish gifts.

In the eyes of many, the Scribes and the wealthy were the important people. They were the winners. But the common people would look at their own modest clothes. They would look at the own modest gifts. What they had to offer did not measure up. Who they were did not matter so much. Certainly not as much as the really important people. But still, they too gave their gifts and trusted that God would bless them in the coming year.

Maybe no one noticed the poor people, but Jesus did. The Psalm today reminds us, “The Lord watches over the strangers, the orphan and the widow.”

Jesus turned to his disciples and pointed to a poor widow. See this one. She is in rags. She only has two pennies to offer. The crowds might wonder: Why is she even wasting other people’s time to offer a gift so small? If the wealthy and scribes noticed her at all, it would only be for scorn, an annoyance. What is two pennies, when the Temple needs to pull in billions of pennies!

But this is not what Jesus saw looking at this woman. Jesus turned to his disciples and said,
“See this poor widow. She has contributed more than all the rest!”

The wealthy had contributed out of their abundance. And more than that it was an occasion to show their status and wealth before others. The modest people too gave what was comfortable for them to give and hoped that God would bless them with more. But this poor woman gave out of her poverty. She gave what she had to live on. The world could not see her and could not understand how great her gift was. But Jesus saw her. Jesus knew the depth of her giving.

Jesus also knew what kind of religious leaders would be consuming her sacrifice, her gift of a few coins. If you’ve been in the Church long enough, you’ve seen it too. You’ve seen big, important pastors wear fine clothes and say lots of fancy words. You’ve seen how they fuss over wealthy contributors and look past the poor.

I know a woman who faced breast cancer years ago. She was a member of one of the largest churches in Sacramento, California. The church had several thousands of members. One day she was in the hospital getting chemotherapy. Her hair was falling out. She felt miserable. She was hardly covered in a thin hospital gown. She was also frightened about the course of her medical treatment. A lay minister from the church came out to visit her. She was grateful for that, and understood that the senior pastor was too busy to come visitor. But as the lay minister began to pray with her, the senior pastor dropped by and pulled the lay minister away for conversation. She stood there alone. The pastor had not even notice that she was there. He did not greet her or say her name. At length the pastor left, and the lay minister returned to this woman.

I know this woman well because she is my mother. I was not there for her either. But she told me how her heart was broken, how humiliating this was for her. She had been a faithful member of that church for many years. And no doubt, my parents had financially supported that church out of their limited means. But when my mother was in need, this great pastor of such great church did not know who she was and did not care to find out.

I think Jesus pointed to this poor widow to give a warning to his disciples. He said,
“Beware of the religious leaders who like to wear fine clothing,
who like to be greeted with respect in the marketplace,
who have the best seats in the church and among the wealthy.”

Don’t be like that! Jesus said,
“They devour widow’s homes and say long prayers for the sake of appearance.”

They will take the gifts of poor widows like this one and consume it for their own ends. But for this Jesus offers this judgment,
“They will receive the greater condemnation.”
As the Psalm says,
“The Lord watches over the strangers;
he upholds the orphan and the widow,
but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.”

So Jesus is warning his followers not to turn the gospel into a game of flattery and wealth.

The lay minister saw my mother in the hospital and did what he could to care for her. But the senior pastor was too busy to see my mother even when she stood right in front of him. One minister drew a large salary from the church, while the other minister did not. Which minister, the senior pastor or the lay minister, had the greater ministry that day? In my mother’s eyes, it became painfully clear.

Indeed we are called to see differently. While the world turns its attention to the wealthy, the powerful, the important and the celebrity, Jesus points us to this faithful widow.
The world did not see how this widow worked tirelessly to feed and clothe her children, but Jesus saw her.
The world did not see this widow when she cared for the sick and the dying, but Jesus saw her.
The world did not see this widow when gave bread to the hungry in her town, but Jesus saw her.
The world did not see when this widow gave shelter to refugees and the homeless, but Jesus saw her.
The world did not see when this widow gave encouragement to political prisoners and those whose voices were silenced, but Jesus saw her.
At what point was this widow not giving all that she had to live on? Indeed, the world may not see those who give their entire lives to service and to righteousness, but Jesus sees these unseen widows.

May the same be said of us. We should never be discouraged by the thought that what we have to offer is too small. We give from the life that God has given us. As Nelson Mandela wisely said,
“There can be no greater gift than that of giving one’s time and energy to helping others without expecting anything in return.”
Giving out of our poverty mean giving without expecting anything in return. This is what the poor widow gave. And it is what we are called to give.
We need to see this and honor this in each other. Many of you are raising children on your own. Jesus sees you and honors you for how you care for your children. And this congregation too can reach out to yet more. Pastor Crispin and I have been looking into a lay ministry training program called Sending the Seventy. This is for any of us here who want to be better prepared for practical ministry. Pastoral care, teaching, preaching, evangelism and much more will be covered. Not only will we be empowered to serve with greater skill and heart, but our church synod too is ready to recognize and bless our lay ministers. I believe this is very important for our congregation of refugees. Jesus sees us and knows what we have to offer, but it is good too if the wider church can see us and bless our missioners among us. But importantly lay ministers, mitume, are sent to attend to people, whom the world might otherwise overlook. Many of us are called to be like that lay minister who prayed with my mother in the hospital. Let us pray.
Father, you see us, and you see those around us. You see what we need and what we have to share with one another. Teach us to see others as Jesus saw this faithful widow. By her example, you show us how to give out of our poverty, to give without expecting anything in return, save that you see us. We trust that no gift is too small, when we give it to you. Prepare this congregation, Good Samaritan, to do your work, to serve as you serve, and to love as you love. We ask this boldly in Jesus’ name. Amen.






Sunday, October 14, 2018

Wealthy and the Big Bag, Gospel Sketch Mark 11.17-31

This sketch was written for and performed by members of Good Samaritan Lutheran Ministry, Oct 14, 2018. Our performers included Msoka as Wealth, Venas as Jesus, Nil, Mary, Celestin, Jacquine. The big bag was filled with helium balloons, five of which ultimately floated to the top of the sanctuary as treasures in heaving. Children and adults alike enjoyed receiving balloons. It was a very joyous and energetic service. But most importantly our actors all had a part in proclaiming the gospel and making it visible.

Our congregation and cast are mostly Swahili speakers. The sketch was performed in English as a part of our ESL effort at Good Samaritan. So I applaud our actors for their courage to perform in English.

One side story, when I bought the balloons at Kroger, I had occasion to share with the florist what we were doing, reminding her of the gospel story, and she wanted to hear about our congregation. When I checked out, the cashier also asked about why I was buying all these balloons. I told here the gospel story and sketch too, and she wished she could be a part of that. The customer behind of smiled broadly. It was good to see that the message to go, sell all you have and give to the poor could be expressed in children acting out a story and sharing balloons. It does not have to be a heavy thing. Indeed following Jesus can be as light as balloons that want to float into the sky. So the gospel was shared even in the marketplace. Perhaps this is Jesus said, go, sell what you have. Maybe the point was to take the gospel into the places of commerce, where we encounter neighbors.

I offer this script here. It is free to use and adapt for public, non-profit performance and ministry. Let me know if you use it, as I'd love to know how it went and to encourage me to make such resources available.



Gospel Sketch: Wealthy and the Big Bag

Mark 10:17-31

Characters

  • 1-2 Narrators
  • Wealthy
  • Jesus
  • Peter and 1-3 Disciples

Props

  • Large bag with items that can be given away. Suggestion, helium balloons can be given away and will float up showing that giving to others can be joyous. A few may become treasures in heaven.



Script

Narrator 1:       There was a person named Wealthy. Wealthy had many fine possessions and kept them in a bag. But one thing Wealthy lacked, and did not know how to obtain it.
Narrator 2:      A great teacher was passing through. Perhaps this Jesus from Nazareth could show her/him what s/he lacked.
Narrator 1:      So when Wealthy saw Jesus, s/he went out to the Teachers, knelt down and asked:
Wealthy:         Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?
Jesus:              Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.
Wealthy:         People say, you are close to God. But me, what should I do?
Jesus:              You know the commandments:
                       You shall not murder;
                       You shall not commit adultery;
Jesus and Wealthy:
                      You shall not steal;
                      You shall not bear false witness;
Jesus, Wealthy and Disciples:
                    You shall not defraud;
                    Honor your father and mother.
Wealthy:     Yes, yes, yes. Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.
Narrator 2: Jesus, looking at her/him, loved even Wealthy and said:
Jesus:         You lack one thing;
                  go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor,
                  and you will have treasure in heaven;
                  then come, follow me.
Narrator 1: When s/he heard this, Wealthy was shocked and went away grieving. But all her/his many possessions weighed heavily in Wealthy’s bag.
Jesus: [Watches Wealthy walk away and turns to his disciples.]
                How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!
Narrator 2: And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again.


Wealthy: [Listens from a distance to what follows.]
Jesus:         Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!
It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle
                       than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.
Disciple 1: If not the rich…
Disciple 2: Then who can be saved?
Disciple 3: If not one who knows all the laws…
Disciple 1: ...and one who has followed the law since childhood…
Disciple 2: Then, Teacher, who can be saved?
Jesus:         For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.
Peter:         Look, we have left everything and followed you.
Disciple 1: I have left my home country and follow you.
Disciple 2: I have left a good paying job and follow you.
Disciple 3: I have left behind some of my family and follow you.
Jesus:        Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age--houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields with persecutions--and in the age to come eternal life.
Disciple 3: Wow, you do go on a bit, but we love you.


Wealthy: [Returns as second time. Speaks to Jesus.] Did you really think I could be your disciple?
Jesus:        Of course! Come, follow me.
Wealthy: [Turns to each disciple, unpacking his bag.] Here, I want you to have this.
Wealthy:  Peter, help me unpack. There must be others.
Narrator 1: So the disciples helped Wealthy give away her/his things, and they followed Jesus. Having emptied her/his bag, Wealthy discovered to great joy: S/he had lost nothing, but had gained everything.
Narrator 2: With God all things are possible. Many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.



Sunday, September 30, 2018

Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets

Message on Numbers 11
Good Samaritan Lutheran
September 30, 2018

 Good afternoon, Good Samaritan. Good afternoon, brothers and sisters, elders and children. It is good that we are here. In Christ, the Father has claimed us as his own, and the Holy Spirit has gathered us into this place. We have all come by different journeys, but it is by no accident that we are here today.

 I must warn you that I am not a preacher. Rather I am a statistician who works for Bank of America. Perhaps that is why I wanted to speak on the book of Numbers. There are a lot of statistics in the book of Numbers. While I am not a preacher, as Pastor Crispin translates for me, I am sure that the Spirit will add God’s anointing to the preaching and to our hearing.

 Like some of you, I grew up Pentecostal. Do we have any Pentecostals among us today? As a Pentecostal I am particularly interested in the promise made in Chapter 11 of Numbers. I believe that Moses was moved by the Holy Spirit when he said, “I would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!” Truly the Holy Spirit today is still calling us to be his Holy People, to bear his prophetic voice in this day, in this place.

 But before I get too far into this message, I would like to begin with a song which is also a prayer. I’ve taught this here before, so sing with me:

 Come, Holy Spirit, guide me.
Come, Holy Spirit, protect me.
Clear out my mind, so I can pray.
Pray, Holy Spirit, within me.

 Amen.

 “If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we used to eat in Egypt for nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic.” This was the complaint that rose up before Moses and before God. Yahweh had rescued the Israelites from slavery in Egypt and promised to their children a new land they could settles as their own. But this generation was to wander in the wilderness for forty years.

 They had complained of thirst, and Yahweh provided water from the rock. They complained of hunger, and Yahweh fed them with manna from heaven. But in our lesson today, bread and water were no longer enough; they were craving meat.

 “But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing but all this manna to look at.” They ate manna for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They would grind it, roast it, boil it and make cakes of it. Every day it was the same. Every night the dew would fall on the camp and bring manna for the next morning, and it would start all over again. They would remember all the diverse food, all the wonderful, delicious food, they had in Egypt. The craving would come. Maybe it wasn’t so bad in Egypt. Maybe we should stop fighting the temptation and just go back. Perhaps slavery back there would be better than dying out here.

 “Moses heard the people weeping throughout their families, all at the entrance of their tents.” This distressed Moses and grieved the Lord. They were craving meat, but clearly this situation was becoming distressing for everyone. Yahweh had been sustaining them with water and manna. Was this not enough?

 Here’s were some statistics can help us. The fourth book of Moses, Numbers, begins with a counting of all the people. There were twelve tribes. They counted all the men of age 20 years or more who were able to go to war for Israel, and enlisted them by ancestral tribe. Their number came 603,550. Jewish rabbis love to point out how this means that each child of Israel was counted and are precious in God’s sight. But oddly, this recorded count only included men fit to carry a spear into battle. For every fighting man, there must have been several children, a wife and perhaps an elder. I’m 51. I’m not sure if I’m still fit to be counted here. I’m not as strong as I used to be, and my shoulder would not be good for throwing a spear. Maybe I would not be counted. So easily there are 4 or more people for each fighting man listed. So all souls in the camp easily exceeded 3 million. Was manna everyday enough to sustain so many? Did they even have a modest amount of meat for their fighting men? Perhaps this was not just a craving for variety in their diet. I suppose the people were weeping at their tents because they were worried about basic security. If an enemy were to rise up against them, would their men be able to fight them off?

 Last spring, one of our families was morning the loss of an aunt back in Congo. I went with the rest of congregation to be with this family in their mourning. I did not know what customs I was walking into. There is a custom of feeding meat to older men on such an occasion. Mwenge had been preparing food all morning for this. I was not prepared to be honored in this way, and felt in no way should I deserve to be honored at such a time. To make matters worse, I do not eat meat—I have have been a vegetarian for 27 years—but I did not want to be ungrateful. Mwenge was gracious to make me some beans to eat, which was quite enough for me. I thank her for that. I was led to the front of a line. My hands were washed. And I ate beans while other consumed the meat. This whole custom, which was strange to me, was really about honoring Mwenge’s aunt who had passed on.

 Now I suspect this tradition may illuminate what the Israelites may have been experiencing, why they wept as they cried out for meat. You see, every child in the camp was counted and precious to Yahweh. But the recorded count includes just the fighting men. These were the first line of defense to ward off an aggressor. If things were to go badly for the fight men, then the women would of necessity serve as the last defense of the children. And if they could not escape with their children, they may yet need to go with their children into captivity. Let us not take this service lightly. Yahweh had promised a new land to the children, but if necessary their mothers would have to survive to carry them alone into that land.

Likewise, the men of the tribe of Levi were not enlisted to carry spears into war. They were set aside to carry the ark and the tabernacle. They would carry the sacred vessels representing the presence of Yahweh in the midst of the camp. So the fighting men formed a perimeter around the whole camp. Their strength was critical to assure that the people God had claimed as his own would be able at last to enter the promised land. So perhaps when facing death there can be some comfort in knowing that at least there is enough meat to keep the men strong. We want to know that our people are strong enough to carry on.

 But Yahweh had already demonstrated that he could protect Israel from an armed enemies. In crossing the Red Sea, the Israelites had seen how Yahwah could defeat the armies of Pharaoh, even without fighting men taking up spears, swords or shields into battle. Moses was a great prophet. He was strong in spirit. Remember how at the Red Sea Moses lifted not as sword but staff to call the sea to call the wind to open the sea before them and to close it upon the chariots and fighting men of Egypt. Through his leadership, Yahweh was fashioning for himself a people, a sovereign, priestly and holy people. We don’t know why we may need to persevere through 40 years in the wilderness, but somehow God was using this wilderness trek to shape the people. Yahweh was perceived as a passionate, often fiery and angry god. This God would become angry at the suggestion that his people would turn back to Egypt, back to the slavery had known. Yahweh could protect them from enemies, from famine, from plagues, but if these people, who once cried out to be liberated, longed to return to bondage, how could this God stand in their way?

 The burden of prophetic leadership weighed heavily on Moses. He too complained against God for treating him so poorly. He certainly did not know where they could get enough meat to feed 600,000 fight men, let alone everyone else in the camp. There were not enough flocks and herds among them. There were not enough fish to be fished. Moses could hear the people weeping. They would shout, “Give us meat to eat,” but he felt powerless to do anything about it. Indeed, Moses just wanted to die rather than face the misery all around him.

 “So the Lord said to Moses, ‘Gather for me seventy of the elders of Israel...bring them to the Tent of Meeting, and have them take their place there with you. I will come down and talk with you there; and I will take some of the spirit that is on you and put it on them; and they shall bear the burden of the people along with you so that you do not bear it all by yourself.’”

 In the first chapter of Numbers, Moses had set aside 12 leaders from each of the ancestral houses of Israel. These were the leaders who had counted and enlisted the 600,000 fighting men. But in our story today, 70 elders are being called. They are being called for a different service, not to lead men in bearing spears for war. Rather these 70 elders are called lead the whole camp in bearing the spirit of prophecy that was upon Moses. The people had been afraid to get too close to this fiery god. They were content to let Moses and Aaron to approach God on their behalf. But Yahweh has a different plan for the people. The seventy elders were to discover that they too could draw close to Yahweh as Yahweh had drawn close to Moses.

 But not all the people were prepared for this. They craved meat. They wanted to feel strong and powerful in this life. They wanted to feel that they could fight off their own enemies. They were not yet ready to live simply upon the water from the rock and manna from heaven. Yet, Yahweh was moved by their tears and wailing as was Moses. So the Lord promised to Moses that he would send an abundance of meat, enough meat that the whole camp, some 3 million of them, could eat their fill for a whole month. As much as the provision of quail was an act of mercy from the Lord, it was also a test. Did the people truly hunger and thirst after righteousness? Or would they gorge themselves with the meat of power, wealth and security?

 You may have thought that leaving the refugee camps in Africa and coming to the United States that you were finally approaching the Promised Land. But perhaps you have been in the US long enough to realize that all is not well here. I can tell you as someone with a good paying job, nice car and home, and extra money in the bank, that even that is not enough. All the money in the bank is not enough. Th cravings still come at us. The more we have, the more the cravings pull at us. They lead us into selfishness, into vanity, into anxiety and obsessions, into abusing one another, into callousness and discord. Worst of all affluence with unchecked cravings leads us into spiritual pettiness, where we do not love one another, nor do we have any regard for God.

 There are two kinds of wind. One wind went out from the Lord. It brought quail from the sea and filled the camp with more quail than they could eat in a month. Some were overcome with their cravings. They gorged themselves. And while the meat was still in their teeth, the anger of the Lord was kindled against them. Some fell sick and died. When the people buried their dead, they called that place the Valley of Craving.

 But there is another wind. Scripture says, “Moses went out and told them the words of the Lord.” He gathered the seventy elders and placed them around the Tent of Meeting. “Then the Lord came down in the cloud and spoke to Moses, and took some of the spirit that was on him and put it on the seventy elders; and when the spirit rested upon them, they prophesied.” This wind is the Word of God. This wind is the spirit of prophecy. This is the wind of Pentecost.

 One wind can lead us to the Valley of Craving, but the other wind leads us to the Tent of Meeting. But we know this outpouring of the Holy Spirit was not just for Moses and the seventy elders. There were two elders who had remained in the camp. They too prophesied. When Joshua found out about it, he told Moses to stop them. But Moses would not. Rather Moses said to Joshua,

“Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!”

 I believe that Moses was moved by the Spirit to speak these very words to us today. We still wait for the fulfillment of this prophecy. This is the promise of the Holy Spirit. John the Baptist said, “I baptize with water, but there comes another who will baptize with fire and spirit.” Jesus breathed upon his disciples, saying receive the Holy Spirit. And after Jesus ascension into heaven, the disciples and many believers gathered in the upper room, waiting for the Spirit to descend upon them as wind and fire. Pentecost confirms God’s desire to pour out his spirit, the spirit of prophecy on all people. But still we wait today to see this new land, our true promised land.

 Will we be tossed about by our cravings for pleasure, wealth, status, privilege? Or will we seek first the kingdom of God? Our Father knows how to give us all that we truly need. But once we have become sick with the cravings of this world, there is one thing that is needful. We are called to the Tent of Meeting. We are called to the Upper Room. We are called to God’s Word. We are called to the Table of our Lord.

As a Lutheran congregation, why do we receive communion each Sunday? Because we know that we need to be fed always the Bread from heaven and to drink always from the Cup of salvation. We may forget this in the busyness of our week, but each Sunday may we return to this Table. How we need to be reminded! Truly we are not far from the promised land when we gather here, together in Christ. 

And we need our elders, wazee wetu, to guide us. They have learned in their years that the cravings of this world are not worth returning to bondage. It for freedom that we have been set free. We may not need to carry the spear much longer, but how we need to bear the Holy Spirit! How we need to lift holy hands to bless the Lord and all the people of this good earth! Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets. We need our elders to take their place around the Tent of Meeting, so that we may follow them there.

 Amen.

The Mission of Good Samaritan

The Mission of Good Samaritan

 For the Installation of Crispin Ilombe Wilondja,
Pastor of Good Samaritan
Service at St John's Lutheran Church, Atlanta, GA
Sept 8, 2018

 Good afternoon, brothers and sisters. I have been with Good Samaritan from the beginning, in Swahili they have come to call me Ndugu. Indeed while Crispin was waiting a long time for First Call, I was one who nudged him saying, “Hey, Crispin, I think you need to call a new congregation for refugees.” I was delighted that the Synod had also been encouraging him in this direction. I would like to share a few words about Good Samaritan and how we can all share in this mission.

 What does missions mean to us today? I grew up in the Assemblies of God, a Pentecostal denomination with a strong emphasis on mission. About once a month a different missionary would come to our church. As a child, I loved the slide shows in Sunday evening worship. We would see pictures of far off places like Brazil, Burma or Burundi. We'd see the little villages, the humble buildings, and the faces of other children, like us but maybe not blessed as we were. Perhaps their skin was a little more brown than ours and their clothes a little more worn than ours. And the missionaries would bring little objects to show us. I remember one missionary brought the long skin of an anaconda snake. He unrolled it for us. It must have be 40 or 50 feet long. Okay, maybe just 10 or 15 feet, but in my eyes it was big. At the end our families would be asked to make a pledge of $20, $30, even $50 dollars per month for the three year cycle of the mission. Above and beyond a full 10% tithe to our local church, my family would always support some half dozen missionaries with these pledges. Now, I'm not going to ask you to make a pledge like that today, but I just want to let you know where I come from. My parents gave to these missions because they believed it was important to share the gospel with people around the world. We could not go personally, but we could send our missionary families with our prayers and financial support. Our missionaries took with them our bibles, our songs, our beliefs and practices to places like Congo.

 A few weeks back I was speaking with Papa Celestine about this. I sang a little song, “Oh the blood of Jesus.” As I sang it, he sang along too. I asked him how did you know this song in English. He explained that he learned it in bible college when he was 17. This was just a few years before I was born. I learned that Celestine had become a Pentecostal pastor as a result of this brief training. This was exactly the kind of missionary work my church had been doing in places like central Africa, training young men to lead new churches.

And of course, it was not just the Assemblies of God who sent missionaries to Africa. Most American and European denominations did this. In fact, the Lutheran missionaries were so successful that presently there are six times as many Lutherans in Africa as there are in North America. No doubt all this missionary activity has left a lasting impression on the religious cultures of Africa. For us in the west, missions was about sending the gospel somewhere else. But what was it like to receive?

 You see before you the people of Good Samaritan. I need no slide show to show you their faces. These have come to us by way of fleeing war, spending decades in refugee camps, and finally coming to the United States as refugees seeking a new life. Many of the child have been born in the refugee camps, and this is there first chance to feel connected to a country. This was no easy passage. I suspect that Jonah had better accommodations in the belly of a whale. They have not come with much. But they have come with their songs, family members, their memories. Some have brought their bibles and their understanding of the gospel.

The first time I heard Pastor Crispin preach, I became clear to me, and I told him, “You are a missionary. God has sent you to us because in America we need missionaries to help us.”

Let's flip this around. Perhaps missions is not so much about where we send the gospel, but how we receive the gospel in those who have lived it out in cultures and under circumstances other than our own.

 As I started attending services with Good Samaritan, I just took it all in. At first my ears could not detect the difference between French and Swahili. I would just smile and greet people. One of the first Swahili word I learned was “Safi.” This was the name of young woman I had met and her name means, “clean”, good or beautiful. I would try to follow along in worship. The songs were mostly in Swahili, but there was something strangely familiar about the singing. The whole approach was much more like singing in the Pentecostal churches of my childhood. Call and response, poly-rhythmic. There was spontaneity in who would lead a song and how one would follow. In a little while as we commune, we will sing, “Damu ya Yesu, usafisha kabisa.”

You see, that song was sent around the world with our missionaries, but it was received in Africa. And so it comes back to us to day. That song carried the blood atonement theology that was common among evangelicals like my parents. How is it that this song was received in Africa and is now a living expression of this congregation refugees here in Atlanta? Whose mission is this? Where did it begin? Yes, we have just installed Pastor Crispin, but this mission is Christ's.

The blood of Christ makes us completely clean, safi, usafisha kabisa. But more than that, Damu ya Yesu makes us brother and sister, ndugu na familia.

 So I welcome you to share in this mission, the mission of Good Samaritan. Pray for us. Worship with us when you can. Participate in activities that help us connect to our new home in this country and within the ELCA. For the children, we want to form an club call Little Green Samaritans so that our kids can learn about the environment and have outing experiences in natural settings. You can help us with these trips. Remember our youth also for shared activities. For example, St John's and Good Sam will share a confirmation class, and they are right here with us for their first meeting. We aspire to have a dynamic women's ministry. As many of our families are headed by single mothers, being a refugee family makes this even more challenging. We would like to offer heath, finance and other practical living classes and support. We also work actively in cultivating English as a second language. We do this as preparation for worship each Sunday.

 Our vision for Good Samaritan is that we form a strong community of refugees and friends who are able to minister among wider community of refugees. We start small, where we can celebrate and cultivate our various gifts for ministry. The ways in which this congregation connects with other Lutherans in this synod is critical. So we invite you to participate with us. Ultimately, the mission is to discover who we are for each other in Christ, how damu ya Yesu makes us brother and sister. We do have financial needs. So give as you are led to, but more than that we covet your prayer, presence and participation.

Together we are Christ's mission. The offering this afternoon will be greater work of Good Samaritan Lutheran Ministries.

Please make checks payable to Good Samaritan Lutheran Ministries.

Five years

It's been five years since I have last posted. I've become a yoga teacher. I integrate Christian faith and spirituality into my yoga practice. I've been teaching yoga in a church setting since 2014. This year I've been helping a new church start. Good Samaritan Lutheran Ministry is a missions congregation in Clarkston, GA, which serves refugee families. Most of our members are refugees from the Democratic Republic of Congo. Our services are in Swahili, English and French. Before worship services, I teach an English for Worship, which reinforces English as a second language while learning biblical texts in both English and Swahili. Along the way, I've been learning Swahili myself. Our Monday night yoga class, 7PM, has moved to WellRefugee Center in Clarkston. Here we are able to welcome more refugees to our community yoga practice. Both teaching yoga and ministry at Good Samaritan have given me ample opportunity to reflect on scripture in community and work toward a more embodied spirituality. Perhaps it is time for me to start sharing this journey here. With God's help, I'll resume posting to this blog site. Feel free to ask me anything. Blessings all, James

Friday, July 26, 2013

Perfection

God does not demand perfection, but has a heart to heal us when we are broken. What does it mean to be "perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect"? It is to will wholeness for all creation, even as a father desires health and wellbeing for his child.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Caught in sin

Once my father built a manger to feed hay to our cows. The manger had a wedge shape top loader with vertical slats about six inches apart. One would put hay in the top where it would remain clean and dry for the cows who would eat it by tugging at the hay drawing it through the slats. The cows took to it immediately. As the hay was nearly all consumed, one cow reached her head in for the last bits. When she tried to pull her head back, she found that it was stuck. She panicked. She started flailing about and bucking, trying to get her head loose. Before we knew what was happening, she had flung the manger with her head still stuck in it into a muddy pond in the middle of the pasture. The pond was deep enough that she could have drowned in it, but the frightened cow managed to keep her head above water. She was truly stuck and we were dumbfounded as to how to get her and the manger out of the marshy pond. I can't remember exactly how we did it. We tried several things, and neighbors came to help. Eventually we did get her loose of the manger, and she sprang out of the pond when she got the chance.

I wonder sometimes if this is not how our heavenly Father views us when we fall into sin. What was meant to feed us becomes a trap. Our heads get stuck in it, and the more we toss about, the worse it becomes. We may even find ourselves in such a condition that we cannot free ourselves. The Father loves us no less, but will jump in and do what ever it takes to set us free. Not only the Father and his Son, but a few good neighbors--whatever it takes.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Forgive one another

The trouble with sin is not that it keeps God from loving us. The trouble is that sin keeps us from loving and forgiving each other and ourselves. Sin keeps us from loving God as God loves each of us.  So I say, Jesus did not die so that God could forgive you. Jesus died so that we might forgive each other. He dies so that we might lay down our weapons and insults, our grudges and pain, our pettiness and pride. He dies that we might release one another from bondage, guilt and shame. He dies that we might embrace each other as sisters and brothers, children of one holy Parent, children made whole. When we do this--in whatever measure we can--the Father's broken heart is made whole. So I say, forgive one another.