Wisdom is a Promise

Sermon preached Sunday, August 19, 2018, the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio can be found here

Welcome to Bread—Week Four! We continue in the Gospel of John with Jesus’ teaching on how he is the bread of life. Today, he offers a word of promise that defies the understanding of the Jewish religious leaders. Our lectionary is designed to have readings from the Old Testament and the Epistles that complement the Gospel reading—some Sundays it works out better than others. Today is one of the times it works really well: the Gospel falls in line nicely with the other readings from Proverbs and Ephesians about wisdom.

Oftentimes, when we talk about wisdom and foolishness, we think about the cross. In one of Paul’s letters to the Corinthians, explains how God’s work defies our logic and what we think we need in order to believe. In that letter, Paul writes:

“For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, 23but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:22-25)

This letter reminds us that God frequently works in ways we don’t understand and that the cross is the ultimate symbol of God’s subversive salvation. Who would have thought that our salvation would come about through a man who was arrested, tortured and executed instead of a powerful military or political leader?

We know, though, that the cross is not the only place where God works in a way we don’t expect or have trouble comprehending. There are many places in scripture where things don’t end up the way we think they should.

Abraham being told to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Joseph going from being sold into slavery by his brothers to right-hand man to Pharaoh. Moses not actually living long enough to see the promised land. David, an insignificant shepherd boy being anointed as king. Esther, a Jew, becoming Queen of Persia and saving her people. Ruth leaving her homeland to remain with her mother-in-law Naomi. Mary, a teenage girl from an oppressed people, being named the bearer of God.

It’s all over the place in our Bible, but today we see another piece. We hear other writings interpreting God’s wisdom for our lives.

Paul writes to the church in Ephesus, “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise…” (Ephesians 5:15).

So what makes us wise? What is this wisdom that we are called to?

Wisdom is personified in Proverbs as a woman.

“1Wisdom has built her house,
she has hewn her seven pillars.
2She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine,
she has also set her table.
3She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls
from the highest places in the town,
4’You that are simple, turn in here!’
To those without sense she says,
5’Come, eat of my bread
and drink of the wine I have mixed.
6Lay aside immaturity, and live,
and walk in the way of insight.’” (Proverbs 9:1-6)

In other words, Wisdom has prepared her home to invite the most vulnerable and most in need to come and dine. What she offers, she offers freely and without condition.

This is Wisdom? It doesn’t sound like what we might consider to be wise—after all, what guarantees do we have that our generosity will pay off or that the people we care for deserve it? Isn’t that wisdom? …or is it skepticism?

I think we often conflate the two. We are wary of being taken advantage of, or of being naïve and so we are critical or display strength in ways that build ourselves up at the expense of serving others. We hold on to skepticism and cynicism because it keeps us distant from others and keeps us safe in our own silos. …but this is not wisdom, at least not the Wisdom we find in the Bible.

This wisdom of welcome and invitation is what Jesus offers the disciples, the crowds who followed him…really, to everyone. Hear again his words:

“[Jesus said,] 51’I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’ 52The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ 53So Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; 55for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. 56Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.’” (John 6:51-58)

The wisdom here isn’t clear to the people listening. They argue among themselves trying to figure out just what it is he’s saying.

The thing to remember here is that it’s not only strange that Jesus is talking about eating his flesh and drinking his blood…but this language goes explicitly against Jewish law.

Most of us have at least heard of the Jewish dietary laws and we might know that keeping kosher means not eating pigs or shellfish…but it’s much more than that. To prepare meat properly, to make sure that it is ritually okay, all blood must be drained before it can be cooked. This is because blood is considered unclean. Coming into contact with blood means a ritual cleansing, even something as common as menstrual blood or a little scrape that breaks the skin.

It’s because of these laws that Jesus’ words are not just odd, they are almost blasphemous. Jesus is inviting and even encouraging people to eat his flesh and drink his blood and violate the laws prescribed by their faith.

And so how could this be wisdom? How could this be right? How could this be what God wants them to do?

It’s because of the promise Jesus makes—that’s where Wisdom is found: in the promise, in the invitation, in the abundance at God’s table.

Did you notice that it is, in fact, a promise that’s made? Not an explanation offered or instructions on how it all happens.

Jesus doesn’t go into the metaphysical details of how bread can become skin and muscle and sinew or how wine can become blood cells and platelets and plasma. Jesus doesn’t even get philosophical about it. Jesus doesn’t set a test of understanding for people to pass or an age limit or any other hurdles. No, instead there is only the promise: “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life…” (John 6:54a)

God’s wisdom is in the promise and the invitation.

We embrace that wisdom when we take the offer, when we come to the table, when we eat the flesh and drink the blood and receive eternal life. No conditions. No examinations. No limits.

Just a promise.

Amen.

Called to Thrive

Sermon preached Sunday, August 12, 2018, the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio for this sermon can be found here. 

Welcome to Week 3 of the Bread of Life! We began with a sign, a miracle: Jesus feeding the five thousand with a few fish and a handful of loaves of bread. Last week, we heard the story of the Israelites complaining and receiving the manna in the wilderness and we explored how, even when we complain and gripe, God still provides for our needs.

We continue this morning with Jesus explaining and expounding on what his being manna from heaven, the bread of life, the living bread, means…and, in many ways, the theme of God’s provision continues.

This is particularly clear in our first reading about the prophet Elijah. There are specific accounts of Elijah’s life that we talk about occasionally in the lectionary, but, if you’re like me, you don’t tend to remember his biography in its totality or in chronological order, so let’s review for a minute to figure out how we got here.

Elijah had been serving as a prophet for a while. He was well known. The King of Israel at this time was Ahab, and his wife was Jezebel, daughter of the King of Tyre. Jezebel, like the rest of her people, worshipped many gods, including Baal. She continued this worship of Baal after she became queen. This was always distasteful to faithful followers of God, but it came to a head when she brought prophets of Baal and Asherah, another god, to her table.

Elijah’s response was to go to this gathering of other prophets and challenged them to perform signs and miracles calling on the names of their gods. The followers of Baal and Asherah failed, while Elijah succeeded, and he rounded up them all and killed them.

As you might imagine, this did not go over well with Queen Jezebel and she wanted revenge—she wanted Elijah killed and sent men after him. Elijah was now on the run, which is where we meet him in this morning’s reading.

He is exhausted and scared, not to mention hungry. He’s ready to die. He’s done his job but is tired of fleeing. Here is what the account from First Kings says:

“Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, ‘Get up and eat.’ 6He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and lay down again. 7The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, ‘Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.’ 8He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food for forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God.” (1 Kings 19:5b-8)

God sends food and drink to Elijah to restore him and give him strength. From that point, God actually meets Elijah at Mount Horeb where he gives him a new mission and a renewed sense of purpose.

God provides for Elijah…and God not only provides enough for Elijah to live—to survive the night—, but for Elijah to thrive.

…and maybe that’s part of what we’re called to do for one another, not just to help each other survive, but to live abundantly, live joyfully–to thrive.

I mean, that’s part of what Paul is calling the church in Ephesus to in his letter. Let’s take a look at it again.

Paul writes, “So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.” (Ephesians 4:25-32)

There’s even a song that gets sung at camp to remind people of this call! [Sing the song]

The idea is that we aren’t called to do things begrudgingly or out of obligation or to cross the bare minimum off our to-do list–we’re called to make the lives of all humanity better.

I spent every morning this past week leading the adult bible study at Family Camp at Camp Nawakwa. We expounded on the Youth Gathering Theme “This Changes Everything.” Instead of discussing what the “this” is, like how God’s Hope Changes Everything or God’s Love Changes Everything, we called the “this” grace and explored just what, exactly, it changes.

Over the course of the five mornings, we discussed how God’s Grace Changes our Hearts, our Identities, our Purpose, our Communities, and our Perspective. In our conversations we listened and shared experiences and questions and wonderings about faith. One of the things that kept coming up was how we engage with our neighbor and, since our neighbor is really everyone, how we engage with other people in general.

One of the things we pointed to was the ways Martin Luther explains several of the commandments. There is the commandment to not bear false witness. Luther says that it isn’t enough to not lie about another person, but that we are meant to interpret everything they do in the best possible light.

There is the commandment to not kill. Luther says that it isn’t enough that we not take the life of another, but that we do everything in our power to preserve that person’s life and make it better.

There are the commandments to not steal or covet. Luther says that it isn’t enough that we don’t take what isn’t ours, but that we help our neighbor keep and increase what they have. Luther approaches the commandments in a unique way: it’s not just about not doing the bad thing, but about actively improving the lives of others.

Instead of only giving food to people that are hungry, we are called to offer help and resources to eliminate food scarcity.

Instead of only providing emergency shelter for people who are without a home, we are called to advocate for affordable and safe housing options.

Instead of only praying that things will get better for marginalized people, we are called to speak out against unjust systems and work to dismantle programs that unfairly target the ones who can least protect themselves.

You might be thinking to yourself, “How did we get here? I thought we were talking about bread?” Well, we are. Or rather, we will.

Simply put, it bears repeating that the only way we’re able to do any of this work is because God provides for us in the first place. God provides our creation, our skills, forgiveness, gifts, love, joy, all the things that make it possible for us to live and, more importantly, possible for us to thrive.

And, we can’t forget, that we also have Christ, the bread of life, the manna from heaven, the living bread.

We can live out the lives and purpose God has called us to because of this living bread we are fed with. We have been fed and we continue to be fed each and every time we gather around this table.

Eat the bread. Drink the wine. Taste and see that the Lord is good and thrive in the world God has made. Amen.

God Still Provides

Sermon preached Sunday, August 5, 2018, the Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA.

I hope you’re hungry.

Last week, we heard the story of the feeding of the five thousand. For the next four weeks, we hear what happens next, as the crowds continued to follow Jesus and he expounded on what that sign meant. It’s what we call the “Bread Series” in the lectionary: five Sundays with part of Jesus’ bread discourse in John as our Gospel reading.

What this means is that we’re going to be talking a lot about bread, a lot about eating, a lot about what satisfies us.  I’m not going to lie, it can get a little tedious—it can be challenging to find a new way to talk about what seems like the same thing, week after week. But…I’ll try. 😊

It helps that we have other readings to shape the overall theme of a Sunday. This morning, we hear the story about the Israelites experiencing a food crisis in the wilderness. This story comes only two chapters after the cross the Red Sea and only a handful of verses after God provided water from a rock. None of this matters, though. They are hungry and they complain.

They say to Moses and Aaron that they would have been better off if they’d remained in Egypt? Can you believe that? They are so upset that they say they would rather return to slavery than be in the situation they’re in now. Forced labor and oppression is better than this.

Doesn’t that sound familiar? Doesn’t that sound like the kind of over exaggeration we use all the time? “Ugh, I’d rather die than go to that!” I mean, I can’t imagine that the Israelites are serious—they have to know that it would not be better if they were still slaves in Egypt—but the fact remains that they still find something to complain about. They are not content. They are not trusting that God is at work, despite all the incredible things they’ve already witnessed.

And God is at work. That’s the whole point. They complain. They are ungrateful. They don’t understand. They don’t trust…and still God provides. God’s provision doesn’t come from us—but from the abundance of God’s grace and love.

This is completely counter to what we call the “prosperity gospel.” This mode of thought says that if you pray often enough, if you believe strong enough, if you do enough, then God will reward you. Your faith will bring about God’s grace. The story of manna in the wilderness shows us that this simply is not the case. The Israelites aren’t praying, they’re grumbling. They aren’t believing, they are doubting. They aren’t doing much of anything…but still God provides.

It’s an incredible moment. It should be a kind of turning point for the Israelites, a moment that generations could look back on and say, “How can we ever doubt when God has done such a thing for us?” It should be, but it isn’t—just like the ark during the flood wasn’t and just like crossing the Red Sea in the first place wasn’t. Life-giving water flowing from a cold, hard rock didn’t quite do the trick, either.

The Israelites—and indeed, all of humanity—have a remarkably short memory and a tendency to believe that even if God worked in the past that work is now over and done with. No one seems to expect that God has more goodness waiting in the wings.

The Gospel reading makes that pretty clear. The crowds surrounding Jesus, including, presumably, the disciples, ask him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? 31Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’ ” (John 6:30-31)

They apparently remember about the manna…but aren’t sure that God is still working, or that Jesus is part of that work. They want another sign. They want proof. Once again, they don’t understand, they don’t trust, they don’t believe. They need evidence…and they just don’t think God has done enough yet.

“What sign are you going to give us, then, Jesus?”

What they fail to understand is that Jesus is the sign. Jesus is the manna, the bread from heaven.

My preaching professor, Craig Satterlee, explains the mistakes in both accounts:

“Jesus is pushing the multitude to seek more than the satisfaction of their physical hunger. In the Exodus reading, Israel fails to expect that the God who delivered them from slavery would also sustain them in the desert. Rather than name their fear, they complain about food. Rather than trusting the relationship with God that Jesus brings, the crowd seeks and settles for signs.” (S&S Preaching, pg. 217)

Of course, they do. Of course, we do. It’s what humanity is best at: wanting the sign we ask for and ignoring anything else that might be present.

We ask God to show us the way, to give us a sign, to somehow prove to us that God is listening, or that what we’re doing is right thing, or that some other decision we’ve made is validated.

…and while we’re asking God to do our bidding, we forget about the rest of it, just like our ancestors before us. We forget about what God is already doing and what God has already done.

Jesus says, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” In other words, God in Christ provides for our needs, whether they are physical or otherwise.

God raises up leaders in our schools, neighborhoods, communities and churches, even though we don’t always recognize them.

God provides food grown up from the earth, plucked from trees, prepared by skilled hands, even though we don’t always share it and even though we don’t always appreciate it.

God provides healing from the things that tear apart our bodies and souls, even though we don’t always understand it.

The truth is, we tend to want things on our terms. We want the signs. We want the proof. We want the lightning bolt or the perfectly timed miracle…and what do we get instead?

Jesus.

Jesus, who came unobtrusively into the world as a vulnerable infant. Jesus, who refused to fall into the traps laid out for him or the temptations offered by the devil. Jesus, who was arrested, tortured, and executed as a criminal. Jesus, who came back to us in the resurrection and continues to cross boundaries and mend relationships and reconcile all of humanity to God.

Jesus is not the savior we could have chosen, if we’d had the chance…but Jesus is exactly the savior God knew we would need.

Jesus, the Bread of Life, the manna from heaven, the ultimate sign that that God provides.

Amen.