Don’t Shoot Me … I’m Just the Messenger

Readings:
Isaiah 66:10-14
Galations 6:1-16
Luke 10:1-11,16-20

Lay Preacher: Jan Veseth-Rogers

Today’s text from Luke brings home a message often at the heart of Jesus’ teaching:

It’s Not About Me!

In a theme that has been and will be revisited by others preaching this summer, Jesus’ words are sometimes hard to take, to hear, to “wrap our heads and hearts around”. Today is no exception.

Jan points out that Jesus, as He so often does, chooses His words deliberately. As is also often the case, those whose eyes remain on the prize often choose words that are direct, concise, blunt. Here we are called to evangelize, from the Greek “to proclaim”.

A calling with which we are often not comfortable, one we have to wrap our heads around, but often are not successful in doing. Jan points out several characteristics of evangelizers:

They are chosen (but they need to answer their call).

They are “sent out in pairs” because God is aware that human beings, in their nature, seek relationship. Jesus also knew it would too often be too hard to “go it alone” as disciples in His cause. These people take the form of mentors, friends and soulmates with whom we travel on our spiritual journeys.

Evangelizers are sent out ahead of Jesus, an advanced press corps, of sorts.

Jesus warns those sent ahead to be prepared for rejection. The overriding message is that “at the very heart of it, we are only ever messengers”. And it’s about the message, not about us! We will, most assuredly, encounter rejection, but Jesus is reminding us that it is His message that is being rejected.

Don’t take it personally, he offers. Keep at it! I’m right behind you.

Jan drew a picture of traveling as a young girl and knowing she could “travel light” as her parents would “take care of her every need”. Perhaps, she also offers, Jesus is telling us to trust that God will also be our spiritual parent. And to travel light in that knowledge.

The words Jesus chooses do not invoke us to “quit our jobs and become itinerant preachers and missionaries. We are not called to “have all the answers”. We cannot. We only have to ever know “who sent us”. We need to constantly remind ourselves “It’s not about us, but He who sent us”.

Rick Warren opens his book A Purpose Driven Life with those simple remindful words:

It’s Not About You!

Hearing these words, a sermon by Pastor Mohn was brought to mind. She drew the farming analogy quite well and likened us to sowers of seeds. And that we should remind ourselves that ours is not to always overly worry about the ground rejecting those seeds. We are called to plant His seeds.

God does the harvesting.

It’s Not About Us ……

Reaching for the Language of the Sacred

Readings:
1 Kings 19:15-16,19-21
Galations 5:1,13-25
Luke 9:51-62

Lay Preacher: Pam Shellberg

Today’s text from Luke brings what appear to be harsh words from an “otherwise” loving Jesus, a warning that hits at the heart. But Pam Shellberg takes those seemingly harsh words in which that warning is delivered, and unwraps what is perhaps an underlying message that brings the supposed and allegedly harsh tone into a broader context.

Jesus speaks very explicit words in Luke’s Gospel. His disciples vow they will “follow wherever you (Jesus) go” to which He replies, “The foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Upon asking another to follow Him, Jesus has a man reply “First let me go and bury my father” to which Jesus replies ”Let the dead bury their own dead; but, as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” To another who asks to put his affairs in order first, He replies that “no one who puts a hand to the plow and los back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Harsh words, indeed.

Pam Shellberg delivered a thought-provoking interpretation of the lesson underlying the words, I believe. As a very wise pastor once told me:

“There is ambiguity in this message, now isn’t there. And, if there is, it might just be that we were meant to ponder and examine that ambiguity.” That we might learn a message it was meant to convey.

In my heart, Pam did this most effectively today. And from several different vantage points, as I heard her words.

First, let’s examine the voice of God as Father: “If you take of yourself first, your family, your affairs first, you are not fit for the kingdom of God.” Translation? To be fit, you must perform in a certain way, to a certain standard. God as Father figure often speaks harsh words in a demanding tone. The words are not “Jesus loves me!” This perhaps would be the voice of God as Mother, but this is not the voice we hear today.

Second, the Samaritans do not receive Jesus. To be received, it is necessary for Him to fulfill his destiny, to die in Jerusalem. But neither do the Samaritans reject Jesus. They reject where He is heading – toward Jerusalem, his destiny. What does this mean?
Pam gives an eloquent metaphor for us to consider. Jesus is focused on Jerusalem, his Eye on the Prize. He does not forget His destiny, His mission, His predominant reason for being on this Earth, His role, His gift, His calling. Jerusalem is the metaphor for our role for the kingdom, our place in the tapestry.

It is human nature, at times, to forget this or even deny it. There is a good book written called The Imposter Phenomenon, addressing a psychological phenomenon well known, particularly to artists and those pursuing creative-minded occupations. Those gifted to be writers often settle for being text editors, artists settle for being salespersons of great art. They are close to their calling, but all suffer a single common flaw in obtaining their rightful place in the tapestry. They get almost uncomfortably close to their calling but resist embracing it. It may very well be human nature that drives us this way.

As Pam points out, we believe we can find God “in a little town, along the way”. As humans, we want “to stay home and have God come to us”. Perhaps, as she also deftly points out, Jesus is warning us it doesn’t work that way. Mohammed doesn’t want to go to the mountain, he wants the mountain to come to him! Perhaps when Jesus tells us “the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head”, he is saying “you will not be able to follow me comfortably to your home; to follow me, someone who has no place to lay His head, means you must be prepared to be homeless yourself, as was I”.

Pam describes the very personal circumstances of burying her own father: designing the butterflies on his funeral bulletin, penning thoughtful letters to his oncology doctors and others whose presence in those last days and weeks of a life, bring meaning and comfort to the terminally ill. She wrote to offer an awareness to those people that they were, indeed, the bearers of God’s presence in a life near death.
In the days following her father’s passing, she stood close to, in the mystery of death.

To one so thoughtful, faithful, and aware of the importance of living presence in the face of death and resurrection; aware of the commandment to “honor thy parents”, Jesus’ words, Pam admitted, were ones she ‘struggled to wrap her head around”. This must have been a feeling all too common in that sanctuary. I have not buried my father, but I felt the ambiguity and the struggle to find meaning in those seemingly harsh words. Perhaps, that is only human nature.

Pam then found a way to wrap those words around … a heart.

Jesus, she reminded us, was not, is not without compassion for the dying, for the survivors of those closest to those in death. Perhaps, as she points out, Jesus is only saying that it is possible for these events to become all-consuming to our human nature. In so devoting our God-given energies for these, we may take our “eyes off the prize”, “off our individual roads to Jerusalem” – our destinies, our places in the grand tapestry. In a book I have quoted often in this blog, Jesus CEO, one chapter is entitles “He Guarded His Energy”. In it, Laurie Beth Jones reminds us that Jesus knew his eyes could be taken off his destiny and he zealously guarded against any attempts to derail his purpose, even to the point of reminding His mother Mary why He had to be preaching in the temple.

Jesus is not anti-family. He recounts the parable of the Prodigal Son, he attends weddings, he revives the dead son of a widowed mother. But in the game of family vs. discipleship, He has a stern warning, words as harsh as his compassion is sincere in those other encounters.

Family commitments can put us on slippery slopes with obligation. This is, perhaps, because these are our most profoundly intimate and our deepest relationships on this Earth. In such relationships, Pam most beautifully reminds us we “reach for the language of the Sacred”. In birth, there is creation; in becoming parents, we are aware for perhaps the first time what it feels like to know you would sacrifice your life for another human being; we celebrate covenants and promises of infinite love; and in death, we embrace the language of honor and hope for the reunion in the Resurrection.

Our deepest expressions are in our families and our homes.

As with other good things, even the best things … all things still are best in moderation or dangerous in overt excess. Perhaps, the more meaningful these relationships are to us, the harder for us, as humans, to recognize when they may come to cloud our vision of the road to Jerusalem and our destinies for God’s plan.

Pam confessed that at key times in her life when she sought answers, she would ask “What would my father do?” She told us how he served as her moral compass. Jesus is reminding us to also remember that “What would my father do?” does not always equate to “What would Jesus do?” … however much we reach for the language of the Sacred.

So here’s the question …

Jesus is not looking for His family or His home town; he has his sights fixed on his destiny that is on the far horizon; He sets his face toward Jerusalem.

Perhaps seemingly harsh words are less than subtle reminders that we, too, are called to keep our eyes on the horizon, on our further purpose, higher purpose, our calling, or destiny. We are all called to keep our eyes on a personal Jerusalem and a personal cross.

Pam reassured us that there is a dearth of clear answers – one thing she is all too aware of as she attempts to complete her dissertation. I can assure Pam that that is a realization faced by those who complete their dissertation in fields as far flung as the physical sciences, as well, and all of us struggling to answer any questions with lasting meaning. All searches for truth go through the rough fields of ambiguity. She concluded her sermon these wisely chosen words:

“There is an assured dearth of clear answers … surely (those answers) have to do with something of which I am presently unaware.”

Those words left me with a lump in my throat. We are without clear answers, but, in light of that, we are called to keep our eyes on the collective horizon. There, God is calling us and we may need all our energies to hear that calling.

The Silence That Speaks

Readings:
1 Kings 17:17-24
Galationas 1:11-24
Luke 7:11-17

Lay Preacher: Jan Veseth-Rogers

Today’s text from Luke recounts the story of Jesus’ reviving a widow’s only son. Jan picks up on a very interesting notion in this text, one that, in so doing showcases the Jesus described therein. I believe Jan saw something in this text that took some “looking”.

What is of import in the telling of this story. Is it that the woman is a widow, that the dead man is her only son? Perhaps, as Jan points out, it is not a story only about a widow or only about a son. Perhaps these are devices to introduce us to a much bigger picture, characters used to showcase Jesus’ actions. Perhaps it is not the circumstances that are altogether crucial, but how Jesus reacts to them.

Case in point. Jan points out several very deliberate actions on the part of Jesus that might otherwise go unnoted. As he approaches the town of Nain, the dead man is being carried out, surrounded by a large crowd.

The widow is one of many in that crowd. The widow doesn’t speak … BUT Jesus knows which one is the mother!

How?

Even though she does not speak to him or identify herself, He knows who she is. He feels her pain; he knows the mourning of a woman, alone, the look of a woman mourning the death of her only son … a mourning his own mother will, in time, know only all too well. He speaks to her. Yet he does not have to have her pointed out. He recognizes the face of pain, of longing, of loss.

And though that loss, that longing, that pain have no voice, He “hears” it and feels it as if it were His own.

Jan very eloquently and quietly struck me in a particular way on the morning of June 10th. She struck me as, in some sense, an ideal messenger for this sermon. I felt very oddly and strongly that this sermon could be given most powerfully by … a mother. Her lips pursed, her face had well-defined structure as she delivered the key that unlocked a message hidden in this story.

Jesus is here for those with no voice, the ordinary, those with seemingly no hope. He hears into their hearts and knows their innermost need.

Jesus hears into the silence and the silence speaks … for those that have the ears to hear. Jesus does. He gives voice to the voiceless; He hears in the silence our needs, our longing, our empty void … and He comes to fill that void with hope.

Not all heartaches are not to be named in words – but some remain so … out of fear, sin, out of confusion. These all take our voice away at critical defining moments in our lives. But, in those moments, we are never alone. There are ears to hear through the confusion, the denial, the pain, the loss, the longing, into our heart of hearts.

Declarations of faith are NOT always demanding.

Sometimes they are quiet moments, unspoken moments, when our fallibility as humans leaves us without a voice. As a man, not a mother, I fear I would not have recognized this woman. But Jesus did. Jan could relate on a more intimate level. Through her eyes, I was able to see more clearly what Jesus might have been intending for us to hear … a woman with no voice … for whom our Lord felt compassion.

He hears into the silence … and the silence speaks.

Surrounded by a Great Cloud of Witnesses

This summer, several laypersons in our own congregation have been and will be privileged to preach on the Gospel at Mt. Zion Lutheran Church. The texts for these weeks have some common threads that I hope this blog will comment on and maybe even, on good days, tie together. Thoughts, interpretations, words and fruits of the spirit, stories, metaphors will be offered by Jan Veseth-Rogers, Pam Shellberg, Keith Pignolet, Robyn McGuire, Dana O’Brien, and myself.

The texts seem to repeatedly address seemingly harsh words spoken by Jesus, our fallibility and the costs of human nature, and a repeated theme that “It’s Not About Us”, but something much, much bigger.

We will hear more than once that voice of Shoeless Joe Jackson say to Ray Kinsella “Are you asking what’s in it for you, Ray?” … and then warn him “You better stay here, Ray”.

Why?

Stay tuned … we, as a congregation, are a cloud of witnesses with our own individual stories and journeys. We can learn this summer that to the extent that we are willing to share them, we will become stronger, more mindful and closer to God collectively than we ever could alone.