A Personal Encounter Makes the Difference

Based on Luke 24:1-12

“The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” Jesus said these words to his disciples. And it was pretty clear. No metaphors or parables. Jesus went down the list. He would be rejected, killed and be raised three days later. No ambiguity. Straight talk. The disciples that heard these words from Jesus were not just the twelve, by the way. There were women that accompanied them as well, including Mary Magdalene, Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, Susanna, and many others who provided for everyone out of their resources. They all knew. Jesus had told them ahead of time not only that he would be killed but that on the third day he would be raised. Short and sweet.

But they did not believe. Even though they followed Jesus, trusted Jesus, loved Jesus, there were some things Jesus said that went in through one ear and out of the other. They heard him but it didn’t sink in. They simply could not accept what Jesus said, that he would be killed and that after three days he would rise from the dead. It was too hard to accept.

If they had believed what Jesus said and taken his words to heart, why did the women go to the tomb as soon as they could, after the Sabbath, to anoint his body with the spices? If they believed, they should not have expected a body to be in the tomb. When the women told the disciples their experience of an empty tomb the disciples should have not been surprised. They should have expected Jesus not being in the tomb if they had believed him. Peter goes to the tomb himself, looks inside, sees for himself that Jesus was not in the tomb. And even with this evidence, he goes back home in amazement. He still does not believe. There is something that is blocking him, all of them, from accepting the reality that Jesus actually rose from the dead as he said he would. What is it? Why did they not believe what Jesus told them?

We can hear people who we trust and love say things that seem far-fetched or unbelievable and it doesn’t stick. We forget what was said. It goes in one ear and out the other. We don’t take what they say seriously. Maybe we think they are joking. We don’t really buy in to what they are saying. We hear what they say as a pipe dream, an idle tale, wishful thinking, an unlikely story, too good to be true. We can still trust and love people who say things that are unlikely or incredible. We just shrug our shoulders. Just because the disciples didn’t take what Jesus said about being killed and raised from the dead seriously, that doesn’t mean they didn’t trust him or love him. Sometimes people say crazy things. Until something happens and what they said doesn’t seem crazy anymore.

I heard a story recently from someone who has been working for decades to address the housing crisis and the struggle to get people in permanent housing. Bill does a lot of advocacy with politicians in order to push for policies that will be helpful in this effort. In his advocacy, he uses a lot of statistics, talks about real life examples of programs and policies that can make a difference in the lives of real people. He says there are solutions if we would just muster the political will to act.

There was one politician in particular that Bill was talking to. They had a good relationship. He was hearing what Bill had to say. He was nodding along. But the politician was not really sold. He didn’t have buy in. It just was not connecting. So, Bill invited him to come and see. Come to a shelter and see what services are being offered that are making a difference. The politician took up the offer and went with Bill to visit a shelter. While he was there, he saw someone in the shelter he knew. They had worked together in government many years ago. And there he was, a friend and colleague, who found himself homeless and having to stay in a shelter. Suddenly, a light clicked on in that politician. He couldn’t get past that someone he knew personally had stumbled into homelessness. He started really listening to Bill and did what he could to support Bill’s advocacy because he had a personal encounter with someone he knew who was unhoused.

The disciples had heard what Jesus said. But they didn’t really buy it. They didn’t take Jesus seriously. Even when they heard the facts from the women and saw the evidence that Jesus was no longer in the tomb, they just couldn’t get on board. It wasn’t until they had a personal encounter before the light came on and they came to belief. For the women it was their encounter with two men wearing dazzling white clothes. For Clopas and Simon joined by a stranger along the road to Emmaus, it took that moment when the stranger took bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to them that they came to a realization that they were in the presence of Jesus. For the rest of the disciples, it wasn’t until Jesus stood before them showing his hands and his side before they came to belief. It was a personal encounter that made the difference.

I was raised in church. I learned when I was a little boy that Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. I learned that Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. But they were just songs to me, words I heard. I didn’t really take them to heart. I knew what Easter was about. But it was just a story. I couldn’t relate to it or understand it.

I was at a retreat with my youth group. We watched the movie “Godspell”. We would watch a section and then discuss it. This movie opened my eyes to what the gospel was about because the stories in the gospel were being told in a new, fresh way. It was like I was hearing them for the first time. There were a few times where I said to myself, “Jesus said that? Huh. I didn’t know.” Something was stirring in my heart.

And then, one evening, something happened. For the first time in my life, it dawned on me that Jesus shed his blood and died on the cross for me. It dawned on me how much God loved me and that God had a plan for my life. A light clicked on that because of Jesus I was forgiven, promised eternal life, and destined to serve God the rest of my life as an agent of love. My heart overflowed with love. Love for God and love for others. It was like scales fell off my eyes. The world looked different. The joy that welled up in my heart was not like anything I had experienced before. I was blessed to have a personal encounter with Jesus. I didn’t visibly see him. But I felt his presence. And in that moment I came to believe. I was changed. All that I had heard about Jesus started to become real to me.

What is your story? What was it like when you experienced a personal encounter with Jesus?

For those of us who have had that personal encounter with Jesus, Easter is an opportunity to remember that encounter. To remember means to bring the past into the present. We can remember that moment when we encountered the living Christ. We can remember that moment when the promise of resurrection became real for us. When we bring those encounters back to remembrance, it has been my experience that the joy that came with that encounter is stirred deep inside, welling up and expressed outward. This is the reason why Easter is my favorite day of the year. Maybe it is yours too. It is a day where the joy of knowing Jesus, of having had that encounter with Jesus, is stirred up. Bringing to remembrance that encounter with Jesus makes our hearts sing.

For those of us who have not yet had that encounter, today is an invitation to be stirred with wonder and amazement, just as Peter was when he saw the empty tomb and then went back home amazed. It didn’t make sense to him. He couldn’t connect the dots. He was amazed at what had happened. But he had not yet come to belief. Maybe that’s where you are today. That’s ok. These encounters with Jesus are not premeditated or planned. They just happen. And they happen in surprising ways, just like how Jesus appeared to Clopas and Simon on the road to Emmaus. I invite you to spend this day with the question that the two men asked the women who came to the tomb to see Jesus. Why do you seek the living among the dead? Sit with that question. Meditate on its meaning. You may be surprised what comes up for you. Who knows? Maybe this question will roll away the stone and you will find yourself having an encounter with the living Christ. Why do you seek the living among the dead?

The Moment of Decision

Based on Luke 22:39-46

Do you know that sometimes it is hard to do God’s will? I’m not talking about the challenges of loving well, especially the extreme demand to love our enemies. I’m talking about those times in life when we sense God is drawing us toward a certain life path or a course of action that goes against what we would rather do, or perhaps is asking us to sacrifice in ways we don’t want to give. Or it seems too big, unrealistic, too risky. We sense the call, and we say, “Why me, God?”

There are examples of this all through the scriptures. When Moses was called by God to go to Pharoah and demand that he let the Hebrews go, Moses comes up with all kinds of reasons why he is not the one to do this. God patiently responded to each of his excuses. Desperate, Moses pleads, “God, please, just send someone else!” When Elijah was called to anoint someone else to be king, he runs to the wilderness. He doesn’t want to do it because he fears for his life. He finally goes to a cave where he eventually hears that still, small voice that directs him to go back and anoint the one God has appointed to be king. When God called Jonah to go to Nineveh to warn them of their impending doom if they do not repent, Jonah runs the opposite direction. When Ananias was directed by the Spirit to go to Saul who had been struck blind in his encounter with Jesus, Ananias said, “Are you sure? This man persecutes the followers of Jesus. He is dangerous.” These are just a few of the times throughout scripture where people are called by God to do hard things and, rather than rushing off and doing what God has called them to do, they resist, they push back, they make excuses. It takes some time for them to process the request and move in obedience to the call God has placed on their lives.

It is almost a cliché, the story that people tell of how they sensed God calling them to devote their lives to ministry as a pastor and how they avoided that call, following other ideas of what they wanted to do in their life, or resisting the cost of letting go of a career or embracing the uncertainty of living the itinerant life. But it’s not just those who are called to ordained ministry. I know of people who felt led to change careers. Or they had to make a choice to leave home. I have had to make those decisions. Kim and I had to discern whether to stay in Oklahoma where I was raised, where I had family and colleagues and good friends, where I had been ordained as a pastor, and to leave all that behind to move to Ohio where we would be closer to Kim’s family, but I didn’t know anybody. I suppose all of you have experienced crossroads moments in your life where you had to decide and follow where you believe you were being led which meant letting go of other options, letting go of what is familiar, letting go of what is good for what is better. Yes, following God’s will is sometimes hard,

When we face these hard situations, the temptation is to do something else or to walk away. Moses made excuses. Elijah ran to the desert. Jonah ran the opposite direction from Nineveh. Instead of going to seminary, people choose to go to business school. Instead of taking that leap of faith, people stay put or, if it asks too much, give up and walk away. Or they give in to the pressure of others who advise not to do what they know they should do. When confronted with the need to do hard things, there is always the temptation to do something other than what the hard thing is. The easiest choice is to do nothing at all.

This is probably what Jesus had in mind when he led his disciples up to the Mount of Olives to pray. Later that night, Jesus would be arrested. Within a day of his arrest, he would be nailed to a cross. The hard thing was imminent. The decision to be faithful to what God had called Jesus to do had arrived. And it wasn’t just Jesus that was on the verge of enduring a hard struggle. His disciples would be experiencing profound change. The three years they had spent with Jesus was ending. Their master would soon be viewed as a criminal deserving of death. Those associated with Jesus would suddenly become suspect. They would be having to make that choice whether to publicly associate themselves with Jesus or turn their backs on him. As we know, they all turned and ran. Peter would deny publicly that he knew Jesus three times. The temptation that the disciples faced to avoid the hard will of God was immense. So, Jesus instructed his disciples to pray that last line of the prayer that he had taught them, “lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

Going a stone’s throw away from the disciples, Jesus falls to his knees and models for us what this prayer is. He cries out, “Father, if it be your will, let this cup pass from me; yet, not what I will but your will be done.” Let’s break this simple and powerful prayer down so that we can understand what it means to ask God to lead us not into temptation and to deliver us from evil.

First, Jesus was honest about what he wanted, or rather what he didn’t want. He really did not want to go through with this. He did not want to suffer like he knew he would. He did not want the pain and brutality of that cross. He wanted some other way to fulfill the destiny God had given him to fulfill. When we are faced with those times when we sense a direction that we need to go but it is not the way we want to go, or that is scary, or will require great sacrifice, we begin our prayer by naming it before God. Cry out to God. Just like Moses did, make those excuses. Give God the reasons why God is making a mistake. Plead for another way. Tell God what you think. Let it out. Express your fear, your resistance, your desire for another way. Be honest before God.

After expressing what he wanted for himself, and his plea for God to change God’s mind, Jesus says, “Yet, not my will but yours be done.” After letting it out, expressing with honesty your desire for another way, make that commitment to God’s will. Commit to follow the direction God is leading you to follow. Say to God, “I want to obey your will. I will do what you ask of me.” Getting to that place where you can set your intention to follow God’s will no matter what makes the difference.

We read that after Jesus made his prayer, committing to be faithful to God’s purpose for him, an angel appeared to strengthen him. Jesus needed to be strengthened? Yes, as any human would when being confronted with the need to do hard things. That angel appeared after Jesus renewed his commitment to do what God had sent him to do. It reflects what happens when we express our trepidation and even grieve what we must let go to be faithful, and then set our minds to follow through with God’s will on our lives. It is from this place of recommitment that we experience strength and courage. God starts to supply what we need to move forward. We can resist, by God’s grace, the temptation to disobey God’s will on our lives, the disobedience that lies at the heart of the evil in our world.

Praying this prayer isn’t easy. Jesus himself struggled so mightily in his prayer that he broke out into a sweat like being engaged in a wrestling match. Sweat poured off Jesus’ face, big drops of sweat that like drops of blood fell to the ground. When we pray this prayer, we may find ourselves breaking out into a sweat. Or maybe it is tears that fall from our eyes. As we struggle through this prayer, a feeling of grief may even rise up. As we contemplate the cost of following God’s will, the sacrifices that will need to be made, what will need to be let go of or left behind, it stirs up grief.

The disciples were overcome with grief. As they realized that what Jesus had told them was about to pass, that he would be betrayed, arrested, beaten, mocked, and then nailed to a cross to die, what an overwhelming feeling of grief that washed over them. They had to come to terms that Jesus would be leaving them soon. Yes, he said he would rise from the dead. But things wouldn’t be the same. Everything was changing. They would fear for their lives. They would see their beloved master treated in such a degrading way. All their earlier hopes of what would happen when the messiah came was dashed. Nothing was happening like they thought it would. Disappointment. Uncertainty. Anxiety. These are hard emotions that built up in them a deep sense of grief. And the grief took over. Rather than sticking with the prayer that Jesus had invited them to do, they fell into a restless sleep. They were immobilized in their grief. Can we not relate? We sometimes get the advice before making hard decisions to sleep on it first before we say “yes.” There is probably some wisdom to that. But sleep also delays making a decision. Sleep is a way to avoid making the move. Sleep is also a salve for the pain of grief. We all know what that is like. Grief is exhausting.

What does Jesus say to the disciples? He invites them again to pray that prayer that they may not come into the time of trial. He calls them back to pray that prayer of honesty and acceptance. It was this prayer that gave Jesus the strength he needed to push forward. It is this prayer that gives us the strength we need to do the hard things that God sometimes leads us to do. This is our invitation. Thankfully, those moments of decision are rare in our lives. But when they come along, Jesus has provided us a model on how to pray our way through so that we can overcome the temptation to forsake God’s way and instead to set our intention to be faithful, no matter the cost. May the Spirit remind you of this prayer Jesus offered up on the Mount of Olives when you find yourself in the moment of decision.

The Foundation of Discipleship

Based on John 12:1-8

The time was drawing near. Jesus and his disciples have made their third and final journey to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. What is typically one of the most joyous festivals, for Jesus and his disciples, would be a nightmare. There would be the final confrontation with the religious and political powers. There would be the lashes and the crown of thorns. There would be the mocking and the public humiliation of having an entire crowd of people turn on you and call for your execution. And then the horror of the crucifixion. All of this awaited Jesus.

But before this time of trial, suffering and violent death, Jesus and his disciples were gathered at the home of a few of Jesus’ dearest friends: Lazarus, Martha and Mary. We don’t know the backstory but somehow along the way they had become close friends. They loved each other like good friends do. He wept when he encountered Martha and Mary mourning the death of Lazarus. But Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb. He demonstrated his power over death.

And here they are, gathered at the home of Lazarus, having dinner. The quiet before the storm. Lazarus laying with Jesus and the disciples at the dinner table. Martha is serving them as she is wont to do. And then there is Mary, the one who sat at the teacher’s feet to learn from him, the one whom Jesus had said to Martha that she had chosen the better part when Martha told Jesus to tell Mary to come help her serve. It is this Mary who, in an act of deep devotion, anoints Jesus’ feet with nard and wipes his feet with her hair, a sensuous and intimate act.

Mary is the model disciple. She sets the bar. Like I said, instead of helping Martha in the kitchen Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet to learn from him. Jesus said she had chosen the better action. And now Mary anoints Jesus’ feet using nard, one of the choice ointments used on corpses in preparation for burial. This was an act of devotion. But it was also an act of acceptance. Jesus had been saying for awhile that he would be going to Jerusalem to die. The disciples were confused. They weren’t sure how to make sense of it. How is it that the messiah is going to die? It went against their expectation. But Mary trusted that Jesus knew what was going to happen. She didn’t have to understand it or let her confusion or disappointment prompt her to be in a state of denial. She determined to secure a bottle of nard that she would use to anoint his body after he was crucified. And this nard was top shelf. 300 denarii is nearly one year of wages for a common laborer. We don’t know what kind of wealth Mary had access to. But surely this was a significant purchase, perhaps something she had to save up for many months rather than something she could rush to the store and go buy. It took intentionality to get something this expensive. It demonstrated her acceptance, her belief and trust, in Jesus, who is her king.

The demonstration of her love and her trust in Jesus was not subtle. She did not whisper to Jesus her acceptance of his need to die. She did not wink or give a knowing glance at this dinner. She took an action that impacted everyone. If there was already a sense of dread hanging in the air with the anticipation of Jesus’ impending doom, Mary makes it explicit by filling the room with the fragrance of what it will smell like when Jesus’ body is prepared for burial. They will smell this scent again in a few days. No ambiguity here. Mary makes it clear what will be taking place. But not only that, Mary wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair. The scent of nard will go with her wherever she goes. We don’t know how long that scent will remain in her hair. But she will smell it. And anyone in her presence will smell that scent. She will be constantly reminded in the days ahead what is awaiting Jesus and all those around her will remember as well. Jesus’ impending death will be front of mind for all of them because of the scent Mary carries in her hair. Far from hiding this or being discreet, Mary is making it clear that soon Jesus will die. What a powerful witness of her belief in what Jesus said.

What a contrast between Mary and Judas. Mary is demonstrating a deep love for Jesus. She acknowledges and accepts the truth of what Jesus will be experiencing in the next few days. She is acting in an appropriate, meaningful, beautiful way. But Judas demonstrates such disrespect, not only toward Mary but toward Jesus, with his insensitive critique of Mary’s act of devotion.

We don’t need the parenthetical comment the author of this gospel gives us about Judas’ motives and his character as a thief to know that Judas is missing the mark when he critiques Mary’s act of devotion. Judas gives the impression that he is more concerned about giving money to the poor than expressing devotion to the one who is about to suffer and die. Judas, read the room! This quiet dinner with good friends ahead of what will be a horrific week is a time for comfort, solace, rest, affirmation, of intimate love and support. And Judas makes a comment about how that nard could have been sold and the money given to the poor. Come on, Judas. What does he think that nard is for anyway? Does he not believe when Jesus says he is about to die? I wonder if Judas’ craven greed was so strong that he didn’t even get what was happening. Was he this detached from reality? This critique of Mary the model disciple, questioning her concern for the poor, demeaning her act of devotion and love toward Jesus, missing the symbolism of what she was doing, really makes Judas look bad. He is so out of touch.

But why is this story being told? Why did the gospel writer tell us this story about this dinner Jesus has with his closest friends, what Mary does and what Judas says? It is a story that is very human. We can relate to the experience of being with our closest friends for support and solace in hard times. It adds to the drama and passion to the gospel story. We see what a jerk Judas is. But is there a lesson for us?

One is a reminder that Jesus gives us that the poor will always be with us. There will never be a time when there won’t be an opportunity to give resources to those who lack. Those who were raised on the Torah like Jesus was may remember Deuteronomy 15:11, where we read: “There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.” To say that there will always be poor people is not to mean that there’s nothing we can do to help them or to overlook them as a sad but unavoidable reality of the human experience. No, the point is that the opportunity to give is always available. There is never not a time to give to those who have need. Jesus affirms this as he responds to Judas’ critique that the nard could have been sold and the money used to help the poor. Absolutely that could have been done and there wouldn’t be anything inherently wrong with doing it, although, as the gospel writer reminds us, Judas didn’t care about the poor. He just wanted more money in the common purse that he could take for his own purposes.

But perhaps the bigger lesson is to consider a couple of things. If we ignore Judas and instead focus on Mary the model disciple, what surfaces as we reflect on her action? What does her anointing of Jesus’ feet with that nard suggest about discipleship?

In her action, Mary makes it clear that she believes in what Jesus said, even though what he said is frightening and upsetting. She deeply loved Jesus. And Jesus had told them all that he had come to Jerusalem this last time to suffer and be crucified. Not only did Mary believe what Jesus said, she accepted it and honored it. This extravagant and devotional act was informed by her belief and acceptance of what Jesus had said. Mary wasn’t being dramatic. She wasn’t being sensuous and provocative. She expressed her love and devotion to Jesus the best way she knew how. Her devotion was pure. Her faith in Jesus was unquestioned.

In a word, Mary’s action of anointing Jesus’ feet was a pure act of love. She deeply loved Jesus and she demonstrated it. Is this not at the heart of discipleship? To be a disciple of Jesus is ultimately not about how well you alleviate the suffering of the poor. It’s not about going along for the ride, walking through life with other disciples. Did you notice that not once did we hear from any of the other disciples in this story? It’s like they are simply observing what is going on and likely mystified over the whole thing. But with Mary and her love for Jesus there was no confusion. No denial or wishful thinking that what Jesus said would happen really wouldn’t happen. Her love for Jesus was clearsighted and based on reality. Her singular motivation was love and devotion for Jesus. It is this place of love where Mary lived out her discipleship.

This is the question we are invited to ask. Just how much do we believe in and love Jesus? Is our discipleship firmly grounded on our love and devotion to Jesus or is it grounded on some other foundation? Some people say they are Christians because they were raised that way. Some people say they are Christians because that’s what an American is. Some say they are Christians because they have completely fallen in love with Jesus, what Jesus’ death and resurrection has made possible, the forgiveness they have received, how their life has been completely transformed because of Jesus. Which is it for you? What is the foundation of your discipleship?

Rest for the Restless Heart

Based on Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

The parable of the prodigal son is one of the most familiar stories Jesus told. Found only in the gospel of Luke, this story has been the basis of so many sermons, taught in children’s Sunday school, and inspiration for songs and poems. There was a hugely popular Christian song when I was a kid by Benny Hester called “When God Ran.” In the song, he makes the connection that the father in the parable represents God who runs toward us the moment we repent and turn back to God. When we run to God, God runs to us.

This parable is timeless because it is rich in meaning. There are so many angles you can take with this story. We can relate to it in so many ways. We identify with the reckless younger son, or the dutiful older son. For those of us who are parents, we relate to the longing of the father to see his son return home. This story can’t be summarized in one sermon, one bumper sticker, one nugget of truth. It is a treasure trove of material for reflection.

I invite us to focus on something that the two brothers in this story had in common and how it impacted their life choices and behaviors in different ways. What they both had in common was a restless heart. How they dealt with their restless heart was different. This is another point where many of us can relate to these brothers. We have restless hearts as well. We respond to our restlessness in different ways. There is a way to find rest for our restless hearts, however. We are pointed toward how we can find rest for our restless hearts in this parable of the man who had two sons.

The younger son thought the answer to his restless heart was somewhere other than where he was. He had no desire to stay on his dad’s farm. There was a big world out there and he wanted to go see it. He wanted new experiences. He wanted adventure. He wanted to make his mark in the world. Staying at the farm with his dad was like a prison. He had to get out of there. So, he demanded his portion of his inheritance early and got out of there to make his way in the world. Surely this would ease his restless heart.

The older son thought the answer to his restless heart was staying right where he was, working for his dad. His drive to do his duty, to work hard, to be obedient to his father…it was never enough. He felt the weight of his responsibility, to make sure the farm was taken care of. But he could never stop working. He couldn’t stop trying to demonstrate to his father what a good and dutiful son he was. He never felt like he had done enough. He couldn’t appreciate what he had at the farm. He couldn’t enjoy the fruits of his labor. He kept working, trying to ease the restlessness of his heart with his work.

The younger son was living his dream. He kept searching for experiences, adventures, relationships, parties, trying to find someone or something to ease his restless heart. But nothing ultimately satisfied. And eventually he spent all he had in this pursuit to satisfy that restlessness. He came back down to earth. Having lost his money, and the relationships his money had bought, he was alone. He found himself slopping pigs and wishing he could eat what he was feeding them. That’s pretty low. And in that broken place, the younger son came to realize that the restlessness of his heart could not be satisfied by the pursuit of adventure or shallow experiences. He found himself longing for home. He missed his dad. He determined to go back home, humbled, wiser, and hopeful that there might still be a place for him there. He thought maybe he could find rest for his restless heart back where he came from.

It’s an open question whether the older son ever realized how to find rest for his restless heart. He was so caught up in his work, in his duty, the responsibility, the need to constantly prove to his father that he was worthy of his father’s respect and appreciation, that he had become blind to the great bounty and fruits of his labor. His relentless work had made him bitter. It was never enough. He could never put his relationship with his father or the simple enjoyment of life above his sense of duty and responsibility. It was as if he had enslaved himself to the work. He was alone in his work. He never came to himself. He never had a change of heart. He never became humbled, or wise, or really hoped for anything. It was work, trying to prove his worthiness to his father and never being satisfied that he had done enough. His heart remained restless.

As for the father, getting work done is not his number one concern. When the younger son decided to come back home, he thought to himself that he could offer himself as a servant. He would work for his father with no expectation that he should get special treatment because he is a son. He would be a common laborer. He thought only about positioning himself as one who is willing to work, nothing else.

But putting his son back to work was not on his father’s mind at all. He didn’t make his son a servant. He didn’t put him back to work once he returned. No, he threw his son a party. They were going to celebrate. What mattered more than anything else was having his son back. And they would spare no expense to throw that party. It may not have been as ritzy and glamorous as his son had experienced out there in the world. But this was not a shallow and frivolous party either. This party was an expression of sincere relief, happiness, even joy. Father and son were united again. The father knew that relief from a restless heart comes when you are together with the ones you love and celebrating that loving bond. To simply delight in being together brings rest to the restless heart.

The father tried to explain that to his older son. It is so strange that the older son criticizes his father for never giving permission for him to have a little party with his friends. Why would his father have to do that? He explained, “Son, everything I have is yours. Look around you. Look at all the fruits of our labor. There’s more to life than work, son. No one was stopping you from having parties with your friends.” But the older son couldn’t see it. He couldn’t allow himself to simply enjoy his life, or have parties with his friends, whoever they were. I wonder if he really had friends. How could he have friends when he was working all the time? It must have made the father sad that his son would not allow himself to enjoy his life with his father on the farm.

Where can we find rest for our restless hearts? Some try to ease their restlessness by always chasing after more adventure, more experiences, more relationships, always grasping for something else or someone else. Others try to ease their restlessness by consuming themselves with work, with responsibility, with doing what’s required of them. They strive to meet and exceed the expectations of others, proving they are reliable, capable, responsible. But always chasing thrills or always working will not bring rest to the restless heart. Where does that rest come from?

The great theologian Augustine is quoted as saying, “our hearts are restless until they find rest in you.” The place of rest for our restless hearts is found in the embrace of those who love us. But especially in the embrace of God. How do we experience that embrace? We experience it in the embrace of our beloveds. Those precious times when we are with family and friends at home, what sweet rest for our restless hearts. Can you think of those moments in your life? Maybe it was the quietness of home when your kids and families have left to return to their homes, you and your spouse are sitting together on the couch, and you are both filled with gratitude for your family, how your kids have turned out, and with smiles on your faces you gently hold each other. Or maybe it was a boisterous party, a wedding reception, a retirement party, a 50th wedding anniversary, and there comes a point in the party when you sit there and look at everyone laughing and enjoying themselves, and you find yourself filled with love and appreciation for the people in your life. Or maybe it was that time when some of your childhood friends come by your house and kidnap you, taking you off to a restaurant or maybe a surprise weekend away. And you spend the weekend with your friends reminiscing about the old days, playing cards, laughing about the trouble you all used to get in to. We have those times in life when we can simply be with our family, our friends, and enjoy the blessing of life.

This is what God desires for us above all else. Just as the father first gave his younger son a party, just as the father told his older son that he could have had a party with his friends whenever he wanted to, God desires that we enjoy life and that we enjoy our lives with our family, our friends, our beloveds. Yes, work is important. Yes, there are responsibilities. To love God and to love one another demands action. Love is an action word. To love is to be responsible. But there is first of all the need for rest. There is the need to find rest for our restless hearts. Perhaps this is the wisdom of the Jewish tradition in which the day begins at sundown. The day begins with rest at home with your family. Work comes later. This is God’s invitation for us, to first be in relationship with God and with one another, to savor the relationship, to enjoy it, to rest in it. We begin by resting our restless hearts in God. It is from this place of rest that we begin the work of love.

We Still Have Time

Based on Luke 13:1-9

If it bleeds, it leads. We all have heard this truism. Even the “breaking news” screen on the TV news is red, the color of blood. It seems the news is just one story of violence, loss, and tragedy after another. Not always. Occasionally something good will happen that will grab the headlines: a sports team that wins the championship, a peace agreement that is signed to end a war, the announcement of a massive deal that promises to bring thousands of jobs to Central Ohio. But usually the leading story is about some scandal, or a fire, a crash, or too often a shooting.

A couple days ago was one of those headlines. An 18-year-old boy was found shot on the south side. He was rushed to the hospital but didn’t make it. His death was the 25th murder so far this year. Too many of these murders have been kids shooting kids. We should never get used to this reality. Also this past week in Texas there was a multi-vehicle crash that killed nine people. A van carrying a coach and team of golfers from the University of the Southwest, a small, Christian university located in Hobbs, New Mexico, were driving down a rural highway when suddenly the person driving a pickup in the other direction suddenly swerved in front of them. A fiery crash led to the death of the driver of the pickup and the one riding with him, as well as the coach and six members of the golf team. It is unknown why the pickup suddenly veered in front of the van but the driver of the pickup was only 13 years old. A terrible tragedy.

Tragedy, of course, is nothing new. In the scripture reading for today we get two stories of tragedy. There were people in the crowd around Jesus that told him, or reminded him about, what happened to a group of Galileans. They had travelled from Galilee to Jerusalem to offer sacrifices. For reasons we do not know, Pilate’s soldiers entered the Temple, drew their swords, and slaughtered those Galileans, causing their blood to be mixed with the sacrifice they offered. What a ruthless violation. Not only was it a violent loss of life, but the Temple itself had been violated. It was a violent disruption of the worship life of Israel. They could not offer any sacrifices for some time until the procedures had been followed to purify the space. There have been too many experiences where people of faith have been killed in their sanctuaries, by militias or by individuals blinded by hate. This example brought to Jesus’ attention is shocking.

Jesus returns the favor by reminding them of another recent tragedy. Along the walls of Jerusalem is a spring fed pool, called the pool of Siloam. At this pool there once stood a tower. Perhaps it was a warm day and families were gathered at the pool relaxing and enjoying the day, when all of a sudden the tower collapses, falling on those gathered at the pool. Eighteen people are killed. It would not be a surprise if some who died were children. It was a sudden and shocking tragedy.

What is curious though is the question Jesus asks in reference to these two stories. After describing each tragedy, Jesus asks the crowd, “were those who suffered this way worse sinners than anyone else?” What a peculiar question. What does the sinfulness of the victims have to do with anything? In the first case, when the soldiers killed the Galileans in the Temple, surely the guilty would be the soldiers, not the victims. When the tower collapsed, how are the victims to blame? It was simply an unfortunate event. Where is Jesus coming from with this question?

We could look to this idea of justice, that the wicked get what they deserve. When God established the covenant with Israel, God said to them that if they follow faithfully all God’s laws and commandments, then they will be blessed with abundant harvests, large families, and peace. But if they are faithless and do not follow God’s laws and commands then their land will be barren, they will be struck with pestilence and be occupied by foreign armies. In other words, the righteous are blessed and the wicked are cursed.

But we know this isn’t true. Good and faithful people experience intense suffering and tragic deaths. Over and over innocent people are suddenly taken from us. There are plenty of people who, if we are honest, we wish suffering on them in retribution for their meanness and abuse but nothing seems to bother them and they succeed in everything they do. Life is so unfair in so many ways. Maybe when Jesus asks the question about whether those who died were worse sinners than others was an attempt to undermine the idea that only bad people get what they deserve and if you are doing ok you must be ok, the righteous prosper and the sinner suffers. Jesus puts the lie to that thought with his question.

The answer to Jesus’ question should be obvious. No, those who died in the Temple and those who died at the pool of Siloam were not worse sinners than anyone else. But then Jesus strikes with that statement, “If you don’t repent, the same will happen to you.” The same thing? If we don’t repent we will experience a tragic death? That seems pretty extreme. Let’s stay with this and reflect on what Jesus is trying to say.

First, let’s acknowledge that all this bad news we have heard so far in this message is a reminder that life is precious and fragile. Our lives can be taken from us in shocking and sometimes violent ways. Tragedy could strike any of us. That’s pretty sobering.

So, since life is precious, the question is, what are we doing with the time we have? The ready reminders of the tragic loss of life can serve us as inspiration to make the most of each day we are blessed to have. The next one isn’t promised. I don’t mean to add more stress to your life. I am inviting you to appreciate the life you are now living. People sometimes joke, “Any day above ground is a good day.” There’s some truth to that. It is good simply to be alive.

Now Jesus prods us to stew on what it means to repent before it’s too late by telling the parable of the barren fruit tree. We can relate to the man who was getting frustrated with that fig tree that has not borne any fruit for three years. The tree is taking up space. If it isn’t going to produce fruit then it does need to be removed and another one planted. This is a vineyard after all, a working farm. The man has been more than fair, waiting three years for some fruit. But the gardener, the one who is actually in the vineyard doing the work of caring for all those fruit trees, has a bit more grace. He really wants this fruit tree to succeed. So he makes a deal. “Let me give this tree some extra attention. I will give it more manure, pamper it, make sure it is well fed and watered, just one more year. And then, if it still won’t produce any fruit, then I’ll cut it down.” The tree has a little more time. Will it use the time given?

None of us want to be like that barren fruit tree just taking up space. We want to be productive. We want to be useful. We want to give something of ourselves that blesses other people. What does that look like for you? Surely it looks different as time goes by. Our bodies and energy levels impact what we are able to do. For those of us who are older we can’t do the things we could do when we were younger. On the other hand, we have gained knowledge and skills so that we can do things now that we had no idea how to do when we were kids. What we can offer to bless others can change over time. We have to make adjustments along the way. But whatever we do, Jesus reminds us to keep bearing fruit. Make the changes and adjustments necessary, in other words, repent, so that you can keep serving, keep blessing, keep showing God’s love in tangible ways.

I encourage you to stay focused on the mission, living the life of a follower of Jesus Christ, and bear fruit, do what you can so that others can be blessed. Yes, there’s a lot of bad news out there. We are awash with tragedy, violence, and bitter sorrow. We still have a job to do. We still have good fruit to bear.

Earlier this week, I had a conversation with someone who has lived on the Hilltop for many years. He is well in to his 70s. He told me about how things used to be and grieved how things are now. Before, neighbors knew each other and looked out for each other. Good paying factory jobs were available. There was a strong community bond. But now it’s different. Neighbors don’t know their neighbors. People keep to themselves. Kids are trying to raise kids. There’s a lack of good paying jobs. The drugs. The violence. We know this story. He said to me that we have got to get back to the way it was. We need to get our neighborhoods organized. We need neighborhood captains who go door to door saying, “We are trying to build our neighborhood back up, can you help us/” We need to look out for each other. He said that if we don’t do that, then we are all going down.

The man said to the gardener, “Cut down this tree, it’s just wasting space.” But the gardener said, “No, let me give this tree extra attention. Let’s give it one more year.” We have time to bear fruit. We have time to look out for and care for our neighbors. We have time. Let’s use the time we have.

Draw Close to God

Luke 13:31-35

Volodymyr Zelensky has become a hero in a short period of time. He has rallied his nation and much of the world in the face of the onslaught of Russia’s invasion. Outmanned and outgunned, Zelensky has led with inspiring courage and determination to fight for the sovereignty of Ukraine. His words, backed up with his deeds, has been nothing short of history changing. I don’t think we fully comprehend right now what is unfolding and what impact it will have on the world.

In times like these, folk stories emerge. One of them goes like this. Early in the invasion, our leaders were reaching out to Zelensky and offered to provide him safe passage out of Ukraine, him and his family, for his own protection, so that he could maintain a government in exile. Zelensky famously replied to the offer by saying, “What I need is ammo, not a ride.” That statement resonated with so many people. Here was a leader who would not back down. Such courage and determination.

It appears to be just a matter of time against Russia. But the resistance to the invasion is strong. The defense of their sovereignty is inspiring. If it becomes the case that Russia is able to set up some kind of puppet government and annex Ukraine, much of the world will see what this is: the force of brute power suppressing the integrity of a sovereign nation. In this respect, Putin has already lost.

The courage of the Ukrainian people that we are witnessing reflects the courage demonstrated by Jesus as he makes his way toward Jerusalem. Luke writes that Jesus set his face like flint as he turned toward Jerusalem for this one last journey in fulfillment of his destiny. Jesus was crystal clear in what his mission is. He is to go to Jerusalem. Nothing will stop him from fulfilling his mission.

Jesus was confident in his mission. It was this confidence that enabled him to push aside the dubious concern these Pharisees had for his well-being. And it was dubious. Luke portrays the Pharisees as consistently critiquing and challenging Jesus. Even when a Pharisee would invite Jesus to his house for dinner, at some point during dinner a question would be asked that attempted to trap Jesus, to undermine his authority or otherwise stir up doubt and uncertainty among those who would follow him. So, the idea that these Pharisees were worried about his safety can’t be believed. They likely were “warning” him about Herod wanting to kill him to see if they could persuade Jesus to lay low for a while, to put a pause on his mission. Or maybe they could get him to demonstrate his own self-preservation at the expense of his mission, the equivalent of when Zelensky was offered safe passage out of Ukraine, and thus undermining his credibility. There had to be some trick up their sleeves. But it was not hard for Jesus to see past their concern for his safety. He was clear in his mind that he would not be killed in Galilee where Herod was. No, Jesus knew that death awaited him in Jerusalem.

Let’s pause and sit for a minute with this. What Jesus is saying to these Pharisees is heavy. Jesus is moving forward on a mission that will lead to his death. Yes, there would be resurrection. Jesus would defeat the power of death on that third day. But that did not avoid what clearly was in his mind. In Jerusalem he would experience what others before him had experienced, the prophets that God had sent to Jerusalem to call the people back to God, to the ways of God, and for their efforts were stoned or otherwise killed. Prophets get killed. That is the inescapable lesson of history. Jesus would experience this himself. Suffering and death awaited him as he moved forward, his face like flint, toward Jerusalem. When Jesus said this out loud to the Pharisees and those who were following him, surely there was a heaviness in the air. It was sobering, intense, and inspiring.

As Jesus’ words of clarity about what was ahead of him hung in the air and those accompanying him felt the weight of those words, Jesus is moved to express deep lament for his people. Speaking as a prophet does, as God’s mouthpiece, Jesus cries out, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Surely tears welled up in Jesus’ eyes as he spoke this lament, the frustration, the longing for something other than how things are.

What Jesus says reveals the heart of God. What an evocative image, God like a mother hen. God is portrayed in so many different ways. God is like a fortress, a rock, an eagle. And here, like a hen. How God longs to gather God’s children together, to establish a family, a community of safety, love, warmth, home. But the children resist. They don’t shelter under God’s wings. They do not gather together under God’s care. We are less like baby chicks and more like feral cats.

Why do we do this? Why does the human community so often turn away from the ways of God and the security that God offers those who trust in God? Listen to these words from Jeremiah that Jesus perhaps had in mind when he spoke his lament:

Thus says the Lord: Act with justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor anyone who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place. For if you will indeed obey this word, then through the gates of this house shall enter kings who sit on the throne of David, riding in chariots and horses, they, and their servants, and their people. But if you will not heed these words, I swear by myself, says the Lord, that this house shall become a desolation.

And so, Jesus says, “Your house is left to you desolate. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”

From Ukraine to our streets we see so much violence, abuse, and lack of compassion. We see kids killing kids with guns. We see someone’s son or daughter being trafficked to satisfy the lusts of someone else’s son or daughter. We see such a lack of compassion for the most vulnerable among us. We look around us and see a house of desolation.

It doesn’t have to be this way. In the face of so much evil and savagery in our world, we are tempted to turn aside, to lay low, to find ways to escape from the distress and mess all around us. Or, we can be inspired by Jesus’ courage and commitment, to follow the mission that Jesus has set for us, to stay engaged in the work of justice and righteousness, knowing that God is with us and will see us through to the very end.

I invite you to return to God today, right now. Draw yourself to the one who cares for us, the one we can trust, the one who longs to gather us all up under her wings. Let this poem that was shared with me be your invitation to return to God.

Child, the best way you can repent today

is to stop spurning God's love.

Stop ignoring the Beloved calling your name.

Stop declining the deep blessings meant for you,

the mysterious love that flows beneath gravity itself

the kindness the Spirit has for you 

even when the world is mean.

Stop pretending it's not for you,

that you yourself are not a cell in the Body of Love.

Let the earth hold you, as it will forever.

Let the sun and rain fall on you 

like a lover falling on their beloved.

Repent of ignoring yourself, belittling yourself,

acting as if you're not worth it. 

Forgive yourself. Soften your heart, and forgive. 

Indulge yourself in sacred time

simply to marvel at the gift, the miracle that is you.

Repent of how hard you are on yourself,

your judgment, your despair. Have mercy. Have faith. 

Your sin is denying your belovedness.

You are Beloved. Your penance is to live like it, 

as God would have you do.

A Test of Integrity

Based on Luke 4:1-13

We have arrived at the season of Lent, these six weeks before Easter where we have an invitation to assess where we are in our discipleship. Traditionally a time of prayer, fasting, and giving to the poor, Lent is a season in which we take our spiritual life more seriously. In the early days of the church, those who wished to be baptized would begin a period of rigorous examination, to become clear about the depth of their sinfulness and the commitments to a new way of life that will be demanded of them before that glorious Easter day when they are baptized and received into the community of the saints. Others who had drifted away from the church were given an opportunity to come clean, repent of what they had done, and then on Easter be welcomed back into the community. It was this season prior to Easter when people could come to terms with where they were spiritually, to be honest with themselves, even as they anticipated Easter when they would experience a kind of rebirth as they were fully incorporated into the church, the body of Christ.

Times change, of course, and we don’t have people preparing for baptism or working through the process of being accepted back into the church during this season. But we do continue the tradition of self-examination, of assessing where we are in our relationship with God and one another, the parts of our lives where we need to repent, make a change. We have an opportunity here to check in with ourselves and honestly ask the question, “Am I still committed to the way of Jesus?” Through prayer, meditation, reflecting on Scripture, prioritizing our relationship with Jesus, we put ourselves to the test to see where we are in our commitment to the way of Jesus.

The scripture reading for today is a good one to start this season of Lent. Having been baptized and affirmed by his heavenly Father that he is God’s Son, the beloved, with whom he is well pleased, Jesus, filled with the Holy Spirit, is led into the wilderness for the purpose of being tested by Satan, the accuser. Jesus is going to be tested. Satan wants to see what kind of person Jesus is. He has been identified as God’s beloved son. How does Jesus understand his identity? How will he work with this relationship in his life? This time in the wilderness is going to be a time of testing for Jesus, when he will have to demonstrate the depth of his understanding of who he is and what he’s about.

I want us to consider a couple things about Jesus’ experience in the wilderness. My hope is that as we reflect on Jesus’ experience, we might gain some insights on how we can recognize the testing we experience in our lives and how we might respond.

The first thing to point out is that while Jesus was in the wilderness he was still filled with the Holy Spirit. He was not abandoned. This is a good reminder for us. We go through seasons of life where it feels like we are in a spiritual wilderness. Our spirits are dry. We hunger for, long for, a spirituality that is more vibrant and alive. We long for revival. But we are stuck in this barren wilderness and God feels so far away. But the truth is that the Spirit is always with us. We are filled with the Spirit of God always, even if we don’t feel it or notice it. That is a comforting thing to remember. God is always with us.

Now, let’s look at these tests that Satan gives Jesus. Two times, Satan says, “If you are the son of God.” That statement cuts straight to the heart. Satan is aiming these tests right at Jesus’ identity. Satan wants to see if Jesus really believes it and, if he does, how will he live that out.  Satan is testing Jesus’ integrity.

What is so tempting about Satan’s tests is that if Jesus does what Satan wants him to do, there can be a helpful outcome. This first one is really tempting. After not eating forty days, Jesus is famished. So, Satan says, “If you are the son of God, use that power to turn this stone into a loaf of bread.” Clearly, that would be a great thing to have a warm loaf of bread when you are starving. Jesus could satiate his hunger. But why stop there? If all it took to feed people was to turn stones into bread, then Jesus could solve hunger immediately. The hills of Judea are very rocky. There are stones everywhere. In an instant, Jesus could turn stones into bread and there would be a steady supply of bread for quite some time. No one would go to bed hungry. Wouldn’t that be great? What an excellent use of Jesus’ power.

But Jesus declines. He says that man does not live by bread alone, quoting Deut. 8:3. This is the whole verse: “He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.” Jesus knew the repercussions of turning a stone into bread. It undercuts a deeper dependence on God. To go without, to not have easy access to what you want, makes us humble. It puts us in a place of dependency on God who said that God will provide for us what we need. We pray “give us this day our daily bread” with the expectation that God will provide it. By refusing to turn the stone into bread, Jesus lives in his integrity by trusting that God will provide what he needs. As children of God, do we trust that God will provide for our needs?

Next, Satan shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world in an instant and then says that he has the power to give authority over these kingdoms to whoever he wants. If Jesus would simply acknowledge that Satan has this power and bows before him, he promises to give Jesus authority over all the kingdoms of the world. All Jesus has to do is compromise just once, to worship a being other than God, and he will have the authority to impose justice, to rule the earth with holiness and righteousness. Who else would you want ruling all the governments of the world than Jesus? He would be the best emperor possible. It would be incredible. All he has to do is worship Satan and he would wield that authority…until Satan decided to take it back. It’s a false promise. If Satan could give it he could also take it back. But the main reason Jesus doesn’t fall for this test is stated when he quotes Deuteronomy 6:13, “Fear the Lord you God, serve him only and take your oaths in his name.” As a child of God, Jesus only serves God, not the emperor, and certainly not Satan. He will not compromise in order to access political power even if he could wield that power for good. 

Have we ever found ourselves tempted to play the game, compromise a little so that we can get in positions of power? Have we ever found ourselves rejecting positions of power and influence if that meant serving a political system or powerbroker rather than serving God? I admire Christians who run for political office, who seek positions of influence, seats at the table, to give a moral voice. I encourage that. We need more people of faith to be engaged in the political process. But this refusal of Jesus to bow before Satan so that he could access incredible political power should always be a reminder for Christians engaged in politics. We have to be clear who we bow to, the one who is the source of all power and authority.

The third test is basically asking Jesus to do a trust fall. Have you ever done that? Teams will do this to build trust. One person stands on top of a table. Six people get in a line facing each other with their arms extended. Facing back to the group, the person on the table folds their arms, closes their eyes, and then leans back, trusting that everyone else will catch them and they don’t land on the floor. Satan wants to see how much Jesus trusts God to protect him from a fall. “If you are the son of God, jump off the roof of the temple. God will send his angels and they will catch you.” Satan even quotes scripture to see if that will motivate Jesus to give it a try. But if we go back and look where this scripture comes from, Psalm 91, we find that the psalm is all about trusting in God as our refuge. In vs. 2 we read, “I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” There is nothing in this psalm about testing God to see if he will really save you. Rather, it’s about staying in your tent, in your fortress, or just living your daily life trusting that God has your back. Satan mischaracterizes the scripture he quotes to try to get Jesus to do something that Psalm 91 doesn’t even suggest he should do. Jesus responds again with his own scripture quote, again from Deuteronomy, chapter 6, verse 16: “Do not put your God to the test as you did in Massah.” That refers back to Exodus 17:7 when Moses named a place Massah and Meribah because the Israelites quarreled and because they tested the Lord saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?” Jesus never doubts that God is with him and never tries to test God to see if God will come through. 

Have we done that sometimes? Sometimes when given an opportunity to serve God, we find ourselves having to step out in faith without knowing how things will go or if it will work out. But there is a difference between stepping out in faith to see if we can trust in God and stepping out in faith trusting in God. The first way is to test God, to see if God will really come through. The other way is to step forward with confidence that no matter what happens God will come through. The first way is to be tentative and uncertain. The second way is to be courageous and hopeful. As a child of God, which way will you choose to take?

I know, I have asked a lot of questions. Maybe some of them are sticking with you and others don’t resonate at all. This is my invitation to you. If one of these questions are sticking with you, why not take some time later today and sit with that question. Or maybe go back and re-read this passage from Luke and spend some time reflecting on these tests that Jesus faced. What would you have done? How might you reframe these tests in a way that aligns more with your life? We start the journey of Lent reminded of three things. We are beloved children of God. We are filled with the Holy Spirit. And we are confronted with tests that challenge our integrity. How is your integrity challenged? How do you respond?