Category: FPC Rolla

Preached on November 12, 2023. Based on Matthew 25:1-13.

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Have you ever seen those memes titled, “You had one job!”? Things like, at an intersection where there’s a stop sign, the street is painted with “S-O-T-P”? Or an article in a newspaper with a headline, “Add header here before printing”? Or perhaps a billboard or a sign that was hung in parts, and the sign-hangers got the parts mixed up? Or a sign that reads, “School free drug zone”? If you ever have an hour or two to kill, look up those memes.

Here’s another example, a memory that might bring Jeff some pain. A few years ago, when I was still in Men of Song and he was still the director of the high school choirs, he asked Men of Song to perform at the high school choirs’ winter concert over at First Baptist Church. I was there for the rehearsal, where the main choir had a percussion section as part of the accompaniment. One song built up to a climax, and then there was a cymbal crash! Except that the student on the cymbals had trouble counting the dozens of bars of rest. Finally, Jeff said he would give a cue. They ran it once or twice, and the student followed the cue.

Then the performance came. The song built and built to the climax, Jeff gave the cue, and… the student had his nose buried in the music, trying to figure out when to come in. I could see Jeff wince with his whole body. But when the moment passed, it was too late. It’s not like the student could just crash the cymbals some other time and make up for it. Either he crashed them in the moment, or he missed it. Timing is everything.

In today’s story, we hear about some bridesmaids who had a job to do. Their job was to light the way for the groom. They all had their lamps and were ready to go. But as was common at that time, the groom was delayed. See, weddings in Jesus’s day didn’t follow a strict schedule like modern weddings do. They basically happened whenever everything was ready. So, the groom shows up at midnight and catches the bridesmaids off-guard. One reference I read said that was actually part of the game—the groom would try to show up and surprise everyone. Well, it worked!

Some of the bridesmaids had extra oil. Some of them didn’t. The response of the wise ones, the ones who had extra oil, was basically, Tough luck. You forgot, so you need to fix your own problem. That’s a little harsh, isn’t it? Couldn’t they have shared? Well, maybe not. Maybe if they had, then nobody would have had enough oil to get through the ceremony. Would you rather have half the lamps for the whole ceremony, or all the lamps for half the ceremony? I would think that having some lamps is better than none.

So, off they go, the foolish bridesmaids, looking for a place to buy oil. Remember, this was first-century Judea or Galilee, not modern America. I just got back from elk hunting. We had to drive through the night from here to Durango, Colorado, and back. There were many gas stations that we passed in the night that were closed altogether, and some others where you could get gas but only if you paid with a card at the pump. Northern Texas, eastern New Mexico, eastern Colorado, and western Kansas are all pretty lonely. Now, first-century Judea wasn’t quite so empty, but I don’t think they had 24-hour convenience stores or oil pumps with credit card readers. So, where the heck would the foolish bridesmaids get oil at midnight?

The bridesmaids had one job: to give light when the groom appeared. Half of them were ready and the other half screwed it up. They missed their chance to participate.

Let’s think about this parable in its context. Throughout the Gospel According to Matthew, Jesus is portrayed as the new Moses. Just as Moses gave the Law to the ancient Israelites, Jesus gives a new law to his followers. Something I’ve noticed, though, is that the Mosaic law is full of “thou shalt nots”: Thou shalt not make idols, thou shalt not murder, thou shalt not covet. But Jesus’s law is filled with “thou shalts”: You are blessed when you are meek, or merciful, or peacemakers. You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world, so let your light shine. Turn the other cheek, walk the second mile, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you. Seek first the kingdom of God and all things will be given to you. Jesus’s law is not so much about how not to sin, since he was in the process of forgiving all our sins anyway. Jesus’s law is about how to heal the brokenness of the world and build positive relationships and communities.

You are the light of the world. The bridesmaids were the light of the wedding, and they fell short. They were not prepared to wait and did not have deep enough reserves to continue to light the party while the bridegroom was delayed. We need to do better.

We have four Gospels in our Bibles because each one has a unique perspective. As I said, Matthew portrays Jesus as a new Moses. Also, we think Matthew was writing in the late first century, soon after the destruction of the Temple. The people in Matthew’s community were waiting, and wondering, How long? How long would the present age continue? How long until Jesus came again in glory to right all the wrongs, to heal all the sick and wounded, to overturn the oppressive system that they were living under? How long until their rightful place as the holy people of God would be restored? They were waiting expectantly, hoping that Jesus would return soon.

Well, Jesus will return soon, but in God’s time, not ours. Jesus said that not even he knew when he would return in glory, only the Father knows. God knows the right time and will give us the cue, if we’re watching for it. So, what was Matthew’s community supposed to do in the meantime, and what are we supposed to do?

Jesus said, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” That is, we who await the coming of God’s kingdom should get to work transforming the world by our love. We are expected to follow all of the “thou shalts” that Jesus taught his disciples.

One of the great mysteries of history is how a small sect of an oddball religion became the official religion of the Roman Empire and the dominant religious force in the world for more than a millennium. One theory is that the consistent efforts of Christians to serve others established their credentials as a force for good that people wanted to join. Christians essentially invented hospitals in their first few centuries of existence. During a great plague in the early fourth century, only Christians stayed behind in the city of Caesarea to care for the sick and dying. Early Christians set an example for their philanthropy and charity, in that they cared for all poor people, not just fellow Christians. As a result, Christians rightfully claimed the moral high ground and drew converts—more a trickle than a flood, but a trickle that lasted centuries.

This is exactly what Matthew was trying to say to his community. Jesus is coming, of that you can be sure, but when exactly? Only God knows. So, in the meantime, BE READY. Be ready by getting to work transforming the world into God’s kingdom, living as if Jesus had returned already, or as if Jesus is present with you right now.

And that is the message to us today. There is a sense about our congregation that we are waiting for something. Some people are holding back until we get a new pastor. Some people are waiting for someone else to tell them what to do. Well, we may not have an ordained and installed pastor, and we may not have anyone telling us what to do, but we are not alone. Jesus is here among us by the power of the Holy Spirit. Jesus’s followers left us his teachings to guide us. A hallmark of the Reformation is the priesthood of all believers: we are all empowered to approach God and to learn God’s will for our lives directly.

We have an important message for the world. We believe in a God of love, of welcome, of inclusion. We believe that all people are made in God’s image and are valued members of God’s family. I know that there are literally thousands of people in Rolla who need to hear that message. Some of them have only been told about a God of judgment or have experienced spiritual, emotional, or even sexual abuse in a church. Some of them have only heard about Christianity from mass media, which gives a highly distorted view. I have noticed that whenever there is news coverage of something that I actually know something about, the news coverage is a little off, a little wrong, perhaps a little biased or one-sided, lacking in nuance and thin on details. But that’s the only source of information some people have about this God we love and who loves us.

If we look around Rolla, we can see needs everywhere. There are people struggling to survive: homeless, or hungry, or struggling with addiction. There are lots of lonely people, people estranged from their families, or far from home for the purposes of their career or education, or far from adult children who have gone off to pursue a career elsewhere. There are parents struggling to raise their families. I’ve heard that the best parenting hack is to have a grandparent living nearby who helps out. Because of the transitory nature of a college town, many parents in Rolla don’t have that luxury, but instead have to figure out a way to do everything themselves.

What is the Christian response? Our one job is to be the light of the world. We are to shine before others with our good works, helping everyone in need. Well, maybe not everyone, but SOMEONE. God doesn’t expect us to solve all of the problems of the world; that’s God’s job. But we are expected to do our part: to see a need and respond to it.

Let’s stop waiting. We know what to do. A couple of times now, I’ve asked you all to consider what your personal calling is and to seek people who might share that calling. I would love to hear from you about how that’s going. Maybe it’s going great, and we need to lift up your successes. Or maybe, like me, you’re struggling a bit to get traction, and we need to pray with and for one another to take the next step. Whatever the case, I want to hear about it. What are you doing, or what do you want to do, to shine the light of God’s love in our broken world? How can we help each other to have plenty of spare oil, so that we can all continue to serve God’s people? Let’s not wait until the moment has passed. Let’s build God’s kingdom now, responding to the needs of our community and our world. Amen.

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Based on Matthew 22:1-14. Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Due to an issue with the heat in the sanctuary, the service was held in the fellowship hall. The choir did not wear robes. So if you listen to the podcast, there is a difference in one illustration.

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Let’s try to put ourselves back in first-century Judea. What was happening during Jesus’s life, and what was happening at the time when the Gospel attributed to Matthew was written? First and foremost, Judea was ruled by the Roman Empire, which impacted all aspects of civic and religious life.

While the Temple still stood, there was a singular focus for sacrificial offerings and festival days. However, there wasn’t a singular perspective on what God expected of the Jews. There were many sects and factions. We only know details about a few of them. In today’s passage, Jesus, who led a group that became one of those sects, is arguing with the chief priests, who believed that the most important aspect of Judaism was Temple worship and the sacrificial system. There were also Pharisees, whose perspective ultimately became rabbinical Judaism with its emphasis on understanding the Bible and applying its teachings. Other sects included the Sadducees, the Essenes, the Zealots, and the Sicarii, who probably instigated the revolt against Rome in 66 CE that led to the destruction of the Temple.

Speaking of the destruction of the Temple, that was the other source of turbulence in Judea and throughout the Jewish Diaspora. The Jews revolted in 66, and by 70 CE, Rome had conquered Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple. The only thing left standing was the Western Wall, which is still a site of pilgrimage today.

After the destruction of the Temple, Jews of every sect were trying to figure out why it had happened and what they could do to remain faithful to God. The sacrificial system was defunct, so the chief priests were out of the picture. Two main sects emerged: Jesus’s followers and the Pharisees. So when you read that there was conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees, remember that the Gospel writers were probably highlighting and even exaggerating the differences to distinguish their beliefs from the rabbinical Judaism that was developing.

You know what, though? There are still divisions within God’s people. Jews have a diversity of beliefs. Some describe themselves, or are described by others, as orthodox, conservative, or reformed. Within Christianity, there are literally thousands of denominations. Many Christian denominations or congregations believe that they have exclusive ownership of the Truth, with a capital T.

There is a tension within Christianity also between unconditional grace and the call to righteous living. I can’t say for certain how we should resolve that tension. Today’s passage is one that is cited by those who believe in Hell as a place of eternal conscious torment. I believe in universal salvation, so this passage makes me a little bit uncomfortable. I think it’s mainly teaching us that actions have consequences. In Luke’s version of this parable, it ends when everyone comes into the party. But in Matthew’s version, someone found without a wedding robe is thrown out, into the outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. That sounds pretty bad.

But earlier in the parable, the king was primarily angry at those who would not show up. Remember, Jesus is in the middle of a confrontation with the chief priests and their supporters, so those are probably who he had in mind when he referred to those who would not show up to the wedding banquet. They were the consummate insiders. They spent all day, every day, worshipping God and working around the Temple. Yet Jesus said that they were like the guests who did not respond to the king’s invitation.

The people Jesus criticized were actually people like us. They were committed to worship. They believed that they understood God’s will. They were the establishment. They were the inheritors of God’s covenant with Abraham and with Moses. Yet Jesus said that they were like the guests who would not show up to the party.

So, in what way are we like them? How are we failing to respond to God’s invitation? How do we fall short of God’s expectations of us?

God is present among us today. When we gather together in worship, we know that God is here, too. But God doesn’t live in any one place. God didn’t live exclusively in the Temple in Jerusalem, and doesn’t live in this church alone. God is everywhere. God is at work in the world, binding up the brokenhearted, healing the wounded, comforting the afflicted.

Wherever God is present, the heavenly banquet is just waiting to break through. God’s kingdom is not just a place we go at the end of the age. It’s here, right here, wherever people are in need. Our calling is to see the potential for God’s kingdom to break through, and work towards its realization.

Too often, we see someone in need and fail to respond. Maybe they need financial help. Maybe they need material support—food, shelter, a ride to the store, help escaping an abusive situation, or whatever. Maybe they need emotional support, whether because of grief or anxiety or relationship issues. Or maybe they need help figuring out the next step in life. Or perhaps they are having a spiritual or existential crisis, wondering about their place in the universe, and need some perspective. Or perhaps they don’t need us to fix anything, just to be with them in their suffering.

Yet we often ignore these needs. We are too busy with our own lives and our own problems. Or perhaps we blame someone for being in a bad situation—it’s their own fault, so why should I help? That’s a regrettably common response to those who are homeless or struggling with addiction.

God desires that everyone should flourish and thrive. God’s will is that we would all be united into one people who support each other, who care for each other’s needs, who seek to serve one another. This is where the chief priests fell short, and where we still fall short today.

The chief priests were so focused on serving God through the sacrificial system and Temple activities that they ignored the needs of God’s people. They accommodated Roman rule and its exploitation of the population as long as they could continue governing the Temple. The other Jewish sects also fell short. The Essenes were a separatist community who helped each other but abandoned the rest of the world. The Pharisees erected barriers between “clean” and “unclean,” as a way of excluding those who they deemed unworthy of full inclusion in God’s family. And the Zealots sought a violent revolution that would expel the Roman occupiers, no matter the consequences.

Jesus’s message to these many sects was that all of them were in the wrong. They all missed his core teaching: that God desired unity, not division, in a flourishing community. God desires that we see Christ in each person, whether they are an insider or an outsider. We should see people as God sees them, looking on their heart and not their exterior attributes.

Now, let’s consider the last person we encounter in the parable, the man who is not wearing a wedding robe. Could I please ask the choir to stand up? … Look at them all. Each person is unique—different genders, different ages, different singing abilities, different heights. Yet all of them form one choir. Each person wears a robe that covers their exterior attributes. … OK, you can be seated now.

Just like the choir wears robes, we should each put on Christ. Each of us has some inherent identity deep within, something that makes us unique. But we also have these exterior characteristics. Tall or short, of different races, ethnicities, educational backgrounds, ages, genders, what have you. When we put on Christ, we keep our core identity as a child of God and act with the righteousness that comes as a citizen of God’s kingdom.

Last week, Susan talked about the Ten Commandments. As she reminded us, God delivered the Ten Commandments as a description of the society the Israelites should build in response to God’s grace poured out upon them. They are not a pre-condition of our membership in God’s family. Rather, they are a description of our response to the many gifts we have been given.

Woody Allen once said, “Ninety percent of success in life is just showing up.” God has poured out grace upon each of us, and upon all of us together as a community of believers. God asks in return that we show up wherever the heavenly banquet is taking place. And when we do, we should put on Christ’s righteousness and act to further God’s kingdom. We should seek the flourishing of each person that God loves, which is everyone. We should seek to serve one another. We should seek to support those who are doing God’s work, whether at the Mission or GRACE or the preschool or anywhere else in our community. And we should seek to erase those lines that separate us and prevent us from joining together in one body as God’s family. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on Matthew 21:23-32.

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By whose authority do you do these things? That was the question the chief priests and elders put to Jesus. Well, what things? If we back up a bit in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus had just ridden into town triumphantly on a donkey on what we now call Palm Sunday. Then, like a conqueror, he cleansed the Temple, driving out the moneychangers and the animals for sale. The chief priests were what we would now call pastors and presbyters, or in other traditions perhaps bishops. The elders were what we would call ruling elders. This group who challenged Jesus was in charge of the Temple. Who was he to ride into town and disrupt their operations? By whose authority?

But if we zoom out a bit, we can ask, what is our source of authority? In the early days of Christianity, when the Gospels were written down, there was very little hierarchy and very little organization to the Jesus movement. The original apostles held positions of respect if not authority, as did Jesus’s brother James and the apostle Paul, and perhaps a handful of others. Over the next few centuries, more and more hierarchy developed, as did the canon of scripture.

We Presbyterians are bookish people. We come from a tradition that holds to sola scriptura, that is, Scripture alone holds authority. Yet if you probe that just a little, you will find that it is a façade. We may say that only the Bible has authority, but then the first part of our constitution is the Book of Confessions, a pretty thick book of interpretations of the Bible over the centuries of our development. The second part of our constitution is the Book of Order, which states, “These confessional statements are subordinate standards in the church, subject to the authority of Jesus Christ, the Word of God, as the Scriptures bear witness to him. While confessional standards are subordinate to the Scriptures, they are, nonetheless, standards.” In truth, we behave more like the Anglican or Wesleyan traditions that hold to prima scriptura, or scripture first, supplemented by tradition, reason, and experience. I certainly have a Wesleyan worldview, shaped by my first two decades of life as a United Methodist.

Of course, even with the Wesleyan quadrilateral, there are questions about whose tradition, whose reason, and whose experience count. Both Anglican and Wesleyan denominations have bishops and other leaders who are responsible for maintaining tradition. They decide, then, whose experience informs their understanding of God. One of the great advances in theology over the past century has been an explosion in the number of different voices that contribute. Instead of being straight white men like me, we have heard from feminist and womanist and Black and queer and many other scholars, plus liberation theology has grown in the developing world. These new voices have challenged our long-held beliefs, and have also enabled us to see that Scripture was mostly written for people who were oppressed, not for the powerful.

Still, many Christians express some form of the sentiment, “God said it, I believe it, that settles it.” They hold to some literal or quasi-literal interpretation of the Bible and use it to support whatever worldview they have inherited from their family, community, and culture. They become doctrinaire and assert that if you don’t believe in the way that they believe, then you must be wrong and a heretic and damned to eternal conscious torment in a lake of fire. They erect barriers between themselves and anyone who might change their minds.

On this World Communion Sunday, we should remember that while we practice an open Table, where anyone who wishes to approach Christ is welcome to partake of His body and blood, there are many churches where most or all of us would not be welcome to commune. Certainly, here in Rolla, there is at least one where I would not be allowed, St. Pat’s. Many of us were baptized as infants, so we would not be considered “real” Christians in many churches.

These doctrinal disputes are inherently divisive. Soon after Constantine adopted Christianity as the religion of his empire, he wanted all of the Christians to get together and decide just what they believe. The result was what we call the Nicene Creed, which says things like, “We believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father.” Wait, what? What does it mean for him to be “eternally begotten”? Later, it says, “true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father.” I defy any of you to clearly explain just what exactly that means in a way that everyone here can agree with.

The most controversial line comes later on: “We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son.” Originally, it just said, “who proceeds from the Father.” Two centuries later, the Western church added “Filioque,” meaning “and from the Son.” The eventual result, a few centuries afterwards, was a split between Eastern and Western churches. Now, there was other stuff going on, too, but certainly, the Filioque clause was a significant source of conflict that split Christ’s body.

Some of you may be familiar with CrossRoads, which is the church that meets in the same building as the Mission. One of the reasons it exists is that there was a doctrinal dispute in another church. So, as a congregation, CrossRoads has no doctrinal statement. A few weeks ago, their pastor, Patrick Wilson, posted this: “Historically, creeds have been used to evaluate who can be a part of and who can lead in congregations and denominations, which socially divides people and sets up unhealthy, destructive power structures. … So, regardless of your beliefs you are welcome at CrossRoads. Come join us as we learn, grow, and serve together.”

Jesus did not put forth any creeds or doctrinal statements. Jesus never explicitly said who he was, but instead let others come up with a theological explanation of his relationship to the other two persons of the Trinity. Jesus did not even directly claim any authority, although he implied that his authority came from heaven. The authority that he had emerged through the nature of his service to God and his work to build God’s kingdom. The evidence of his service, his allegiance, his beliefs, and his role was simple: LOVE. Jesus claimed only the authority that derives from a self-emptying love of all of God’s people.

Our passage today from Philippians is probably a hymn that circulated in early Christian communities. It is a beautiful expression of Christ’s nature. Not that he was “eternally begotten” or “begotten, not made.” Rather, instead of wondering about where he came from or how he related to the God who had been revealed to Moses, the hymn said, “He did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.” This was Jesus’s source of authority: his humility. He did not seek power over others. He did not directly confront Roman authorities. Rather, he emptied himself and served everyone, obedient to God’s will and willing to die for the sake of even those who despised him.

In our parable today, we hear of two brothers. One says the right thing, but does the wrong thing. He doesn’t follow through on his commitment to serve his father. He professes obedience with his mouth, but not with his actions. He is like someone who claims Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior, but whose actions are far from Christ-like. Someone who claims that they love their neighbor, but whose actions are far from loving. The other brother, when challenged by his father, rebels and refuses to follow his father’s directive. Yet the father’s words took root in his conscience. As he thought of all that he had been given and all that he owed his father, he realized that he should respond by doing his father’s will.

In the same way, we should each seek not only to say the right things, but also to do the right things. Beliefs matter, but only if they drive actions. I saw a meme recently that said, “You can’t trust an apocalyptic religion to find real world solutions. Their identity is based around the world ending.” That’s why we talk about theology, why I hammer on my belief in universal salvation, why we talk about the horizontal nature of God’s kingdom as well as the vertical nature. We must have a theology that somehow orients us towards building God’s kingdom here and now. But theology is not sufficient. Our beliefs about the inherent value of God’s creation need to drive our actions.

The way we behave is the clearest expression of what we believe. If you say that you care about the welfare of children, you should be doing things to support children’s growth. If you say that you care about the homeless, you should be doing things that help alleviate the suffering of the homeless and work to end homelessness in our community. If you say that you care about hunger, you should be doing things that reduce hunger in our community and around the world.

If you read the Old Testament prophets, you will pick up on a couple of main themes. One was the tendency of the Israelites to worship other gods. Another was the tendency for them to worship God with their mouths and with their sacrifices, but not with their actions in their community and nation. As the Prophet Micah said, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Not only to preach justice, but to do justice. Not only to profess your beliefs, but to walk humbly with God. Doing justice, loving kindness, and walking with God are concrete actions in the world. Concrete acts that bring about God’s reign in your life, in your family, in your community, in your nation, and in the world. Concrete acts of service, of self-emptying, of pursuing right relationships and reconciliation. Concrete acts, not just in worship on Sunday morning, but in the community all 168 hours of the week

As we turn now to the Lord’s Table, let us seek to be spiritually fed. Let us seek to be bound together with all of Christ’s body, which is the Church, communing this World Communion Sunday. And let us seek to use this spiritual renewal to empower us to take concrete steps towards building God’s kingdom today. Amen.

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Based on Matthew 18:21-35. Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla.

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One blessing of living in a university town is that distinguished speakers and entertainers sometimes come in. The Remmers Lecture Series has brought in diverse individuals over the years. In 2008, soon after we moved here, I had the privilege of hearing F. W. de Klerk speak. He was the transition leader when South Africa abolished apartheid. Among other things, he negotiated with incoming president Nelson Mandela to establish the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, or TRC.

The goal of the TRC was to establish the facts of the human rights violations that had happened between 1960 and the end of the era in 1994. They allowed victims to tell their stories, granted amnesty, and drafted a reparations policy. Now, their work was far from complete and had many detractors, in part because not everyone participated. But the motivation was correct. The former apartheid leaders and the new democratically-elected government had to figure out a way to live together. Both sides had committed atrocities, especially the apartheid government and its security forces but also the opposition party led by Nelson Mandela. If the two sides were ever to live together, there had to be a full accounting of the ways that people had hurt each other, restitution of anything that could be restored, and ultimately reconciliation so that they could put the evil of apartheid in their past.

In today’s lesson, we hear about a man who had his own debts forgiven, but still enforces his rights against a debtor. I want to help you understand just how outrageous the story is. A denarius was the typical daily wage in that time and place. To make the math easy, let’s say that a typical hourly wage is $12.50, just over minimum wage, so for eight hours, the daily wage would be $100. The second slave owed the first one 100 denarii, or about $10,000. That’s a lot, right? Three months’ wages. Maybe he was a farmer and borrowed to be able to plant. Maybe he was a fisherman and bought a boat or some equipment. Or maybe he was sick or injured and couldn’t work for some time. It’s easy to imagine three months’ wages worth of debt.

But the first slave owed the lord an ENORMOUS amount. A talent was worth 6000 denarii, or about $600,000. One talent was a lot of money. He owed TEN THOUSAND talents, or six BILLION dollars. How is that even possible? That’s the amount that Galilee paid to Rome as tribute over a period of fifteen years. That’s 50% more than the combined budget of all four University of Missouri campuses, plus its healthcare system. How is it possible that a slave racked up so much debt?

I don’t personally owe anyone six BILLION dollars. If I did, it wouldn’t even seem real. Somewhere around a million dollars, it would start to seem like fake money. Like, it’s so much that I could never, ever re-pay it, so whether it’s one million or ten million or six billion, it just doesn’t matter.

The lord would have been completely within his rights to seize the slave’s possessions and sell off his whole family. Even then, I can’t imagine he would come anywhere near recovering his debt. How could he ever be made whole?

Jesus likens this enormous debt to the debts we owe God on account of our sins. The good news is that our sins have all been forgiven. Each Sunday, we are called to confess our sins together, knowing that they will be followed by a declaration of pardon. We can be confident that whatever we have done, or failed to do, God will forgive us.

Each of us has personally sinned in some way. Maybe we shaded the truth, or coveted our neighbor’s possessions, or were angry with someone. Whatever. We can easily rack up debts like the second slave. But Jesus implies that we have racked up debts like the first slave—government-scale debts.

We are participants in a society, in institutions, and in systems that are inherently sinful. There is nobody here who would say that everything our government does is righteous, and yet we are obligated to support it with our tax dollars. We are living on land that was once inhabited by Osage, Kickapoo, and Kaskaskia tribes of Native Americans. I personally hold a lot of unearned privilege and am the beneficiary of a society that is basically set up to favor people just like me. That’s not to say that I had everything handed to me, but that my life has been easier because I’m a straight white man who grew up in a good school district.

Some people have asked me why I am so committed to the work of LGBTQ+ Rolla. Well, the truth is that the Christian Church has been the perpetrator of many, many crimes against humanity. I am called to do my small part towards righting those wrongs. I know that it’s a hole that I can never fill, but I feel that I need to do something. We have collectively harmed millions of people for many reasons throughout the past 15 centuries of our alliance with empire, through our actions and our failures to act. Coming back to South Africa, we recently added the Belhar Confession to our Book of Confessions as a rebuke against those churches who found justification for the evil apartheid regime.

The South African TRC was created to deal with some of the harm that was done by the apartheid government. One way it fell short, though, was that it focused on the actions of individuals. Say, a soldier who committed some atrocity against a rebel. What the TRC did not investigate, catalog, or provide reparations for was the systematic harms done to the non-white population of South Africa. Individuals were called to account for the collective shame of the government.

And so, in our weekly confessions, we often include confessions of the way our society acts or fails to act. We ask forgiveness for the ways in which we exploit and destroy the Earth. We ask forgiveness for the justice system that keeps us safe but dehumanizes those caught up in it, guilty or innocent. We ask forgiveness for our community’s lack of action to clothe the naked, shelter the homeless, and feed the hungry, and our participation in systems that perpetuate poverty and homelessness.

As we ask forgiveness, we are assured that God will grant us peace. But prayers are not only meant to communicate our needs to God. They are also meant to change our own hearts and align them more with God’s will.

God’s forgiveness is unconditional. But as we pray in the Lord’s prayer, “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” As Jesus implies in today’s parable, the only condition for God to forgive us is that we should then forgive others.

Why is forgiveness so important? As long as a debt remains, it creates a barrier between two people. The debt gives one party power over the other. The debt colors all of their interactions. Only when the debt is forgiven can two people build a healthy relationship. Only when we confess our sins, truthfully and with a contrite heart, can we accept being forgiven. We can confess to God openly through prayer. In some ways, that’s easier than confessing to those we have hurt. But stating our shortcomings truthfully, attempting to restore what has been lost, and asking for forgiveness is essential to repairing a damaged relationship.

You might be thinking, OK, I can do that. I know I hurt such-and-such, so I will go and confess and ask forgiveness. Maybe. But what about all of those ways in which you have hurt people unintentionally or even unknowingly? What about all of those ways in which you have participated in a sinful system and been sullied by other people’s actions?

That’s where God’s love comes in. I know that I have hurt people unintentionally, but I don’t know who. Or sometimes, I do know who, but I’ve lost touch with them and can no longer apologize. Or sometimes, I have been hurt in turn, and both sides need to apologize in order for forgiveness to take place. Or as I’ve said, I’m the beneficiary of a system that will keep doing what it does, whether I like it or not.

I cannot untangle all of this myself. I cannot change other people’s hearts. I cannot heal all of the hurt that I have caused, through action or inaction. I certainly cannot heal all of the hurt caused by the society and institutions of which I’m a part. But God can. All things are possible in God’s kingdom. One day, God will make all things right. The kingdom of heaven is that place where all relationships are made whole again, where all hurts are healed, where all are welcome.

One day, we will get to experience God’s eternal glory, God’s love binding us all together, flowing through us all. Wouldn’t it be great if we could experience just a little bit of that now? We can. We can’t heal all of the hurts. We can’t remedy all of the wrongs. But we can work together towards a world where there is no war, no anger, no hatred.

The month of September has been designated as a new liturgical season, first in 1989 by the Eastern Orthodox Churches, then by the World Council of Churches, and then in 2015 by the Roman Catholic Church. It is the Season of Creation. It starts September 1 and ends on October 4, the Feast Day of St. Francis of Assisi, who is the patron saint of the environment and animals. It is a time to renew our relationship with our Creator and all of creation. It is also the time when we collect the Peace & Global Witness special offering. This month is a time to reflect on all that we have done, as a church, a community, and a society, to damage the Earth and also God’s most special Creation: humanity. For thousands of years, we have been taking advantage of what God has given us, exploiting the Earth’s resources, and exploiting one another. Someday, God will make all things new. But in the meantime, if we work together, forgive one another, and seek both truth and reconciliation, we can experience God’s kingdom now through healthy relationships with one another and the world. Amen.

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Sermon on September 3, 2023, at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on Matthew 16:21-28.

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Let me back up just a bit. This passage starts with, “From that time on.” What time? Well, Jesus was traveling with his disciples and came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, which is way up north, 25 miles north of the Sea of Galilee. That’s a long way from his home in Nazareth or their base of operations in Capernaum. It was a thoroughly Romanized city, a symbol of Rome’s occupation. Jesus asked his disciples who people said he was, and they had a variety of answers. Simon said, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” In response, Jesus gave him the name of Peter, the Rock, the cornerstone of his church. Then he told them all not to say anything.

During the first century, Judea and, especially, Galilee were awash with messianic fervor. Many men stepped forward to claim the mantle of Messiah. Almost all of their movements ended in bloodshed. First-century Jews imagined that the Messiah would re-establish Israel in the mold of David’s kingdom. The Messiah would expel the Romans and re-order society according to God’s commandments. Some Jews expected two Messiahs, one to fulfill the role of king and one to be a new high priest who would cleanse the Temple and ensure purity of worship. Regardless, everyone expected God’s anointed one, the Messiah, the Christ, to overturn society.

Maybe that’s why Jesus told the disciples to keep it quiet. The ruling classes—the Romans, Herod and his supporters, the chief priests and Sadducees—wouldn’t just stand by and watch their world be overturned. As I said, almost every messianic movement ended in bloodshed. Still today, one of the hallmarks of a messianic movement, like the Ghost Dance movement of the Native American tribes across the western plains or the Branch Davidians in Waco, is that it ends in violence and bloodshed. Jesus didn’t want his disciples to rise up as an armed rebellion, because he knew how that would end.

Jesus had something quite different in mind. Yes, he planned to overturn the power structures of the world, but not through armed rebellion. Instead, he likened his kingdom to yeast that makes dough rise, or a mustard seed that grows into a huge bush. Eventually, the whole world will be transformed, but in God’s time, not ours. The transformation is a slow process, one that is almost imperceptible at times, one that is often three steps forward, two steps back.

So in just four verses, Peter goes from cornerstone to stumbling block. Poor Peter. He comes so close to understanding Jesus sometimes, but just doesn’t quite get there. He knows that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God, but cannot imagine that Jesus could die and then be raised from the dead.

When Peter rebukes Jesus for speaking such nonsense, Jesus rebukes him back. “Get behind me, Satan!” Peter may be the cornerstone of the church that Jesus’s followers will create, but he doesn’t quite hear God’s calling. He doesn’t quite understand what God wants him to do.

Well, the same goes for me, and for every other church leader across history. We all try to listen to God’s calling. We all try to do what is necessary to build God’s kingdom. But we all fall short in some way. We are Presbyterian and not Catholic because of one great rebuke against the church’s leaders five centuries ago. Whatever you might think of Pope Francis and today’s Catholic church, it is undeniable that the Roman Catholic church of the 1500s had some pretty serious flaws.

Some people have argued that we are going through a similar transition time today. Throughout history, it seems like every five centuries, there is some major change in God’s church. So we’re due for a renewal, a revival, a new awakening. This awakening will bring with it major changes in the church and in society.

Jesus said that his followers would suffer and must be prepared to deny themselves and take up their cross. He didn’t say that they would have to experience some minor inconveniences. He said that they would lose everything, even their lives, because they were following Christ’s teachings and building Christ’s kingdom. In some circles, this gets turned around to say that suffering is a way to measure your righteousness, and if you are suffering, it must be because you are doing good things for God’s kingdom. This is faulty logic. The truth is that people suffer for lots of different reasons, and suffering is not in itself a good thing. Suffering is not something that should be pursued for its own sake. Rather, God’s kingdom is what we should pursue, regardless of consequences. We should be prepared for the possibility of suffering if we challenge the powers and principalities that govern this world.

I am reminded of the movie, The Untouchables, with Kevin Costner and Sean Connery. Costner plays Eliot Ness, the federal agent who ultimately brought down Al Capone. Connery plays Jim Malone, a Chicago policeman who helps him. Now, the movie is almost entirely fiction, but there are some good scenes in it anyway, mostly ones that involve Sean Connery. Anyway, early on, Malone says to Ness, “What are you prepared to do?” Ness wants to take down Capone. Capone wasn’t known for being easygoing or a pushover. Capone would fight to the death to maintain his criminal empire. So Ness had to be willing to go just as far in order to take him down.

Soon after, Ness, Malone, and a couple of colleagues were in an office. Malone grabbed four shotguns and told them it was time to go. They went on a liquor raid. Malone walked them directly to a particular building and said, “Here we are. Liquor raid.” Ness said, “Here?!?” Malone said, “Mr. Ness, everybody knows where the booze is. The problem isn’t finding it. The problem is, Who wants to cross Capone?”

We all know what needs to be fixed in this world. The question is not, What’s broken? The question is, What are you prepared to do to fix it? In The Untouchables, as in real life, Eliot Ness is ultimately successful in bringing down Al Capone. But he and his team paid a heavy price to win that victory.

That’s what Jesus was saying. Knowing what’s broken is not sufficient. Knowing how to fix it is not sufficient. Being willing to act, regardless of the personal cost, is necessary.

If I may digress for a moment, I’d like to talk about atonement theory. The prevailing belief is penal substitutionary atonement: Jesus was killed because God demanded a sacrifice to atone for the sins of the world. Jesus was punished for all of our sins. I’d like to offer an alternative that was popular in the first several centuries of Christianity and has made a bit of a comeback lately: moral exemplar theory. If the only thing Jesus had to accomplish was to die, why not let him be killed by Herod as a baby? Instead, let’s accept that Jesus had some work to do. I believe that the point of the Incarnation was to show us how to live, and how to die. Jesus set an example of how we are to care for each other, and how much we are expected to give for the good of humanity.

So, what are you prepared to do? What are you willing to sacrifice for the good of God’s kingdom? What problem do you see in the world that you want to help fix, but are too afraid to try because of the consequences for you personally? What problem do you see in the world that our church is called to help fix, but we are too afraid to try because of the consequences for our organization?

Almost two months ago, I asked you all to think about what ONE THING you care about, the thread that ties together the ways in which you are called to serve the world. I asked you to find partners in ministry. I hope that is going well for you. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that as a church, we already have something: the preschool. We already have an amazing director who has transformed the space and the programs into something that has incredible impact on the children of our community.

But here’s the thing: We let the preschool use our facilities, and we let them make changes if they can come up with all of the funding. We let the preschool use some of our staff time. The preschool management committee includes both members of the congregation and people who are tied directly to the preschool, either staff or parents. But we have not truly embraced the preschool as our ONE BIG THING. It is entirely possible for someone to attend our worship services and have NO IDEA that we even have a preschool. It is entirely possible for someone to attend our worship services and have NO IDEA how many people in our congregation care deeply for the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual development of young people in our community.

Often, when the subject of the preschool comes up, there are questions about finances, or a desire to recruit preschool families as members. But that is the wrong way to think about it. The preschool is a mission of the church. What are we prepared to do to support the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual growth of children in our community? How can we reorient our discipleship to further that growth? I’m not saying that financial arrangements are irrelevant, only that they are secondary to the goal of supporting children. I’m not saying that evangelism to preschool families is a bad thing, only that the success or failure of that evangelism is not ultimately related to our mission of supporting the growth of the children.

But I think we are afraid to embrace that mission. We’re afraid to let go of who we are, for the sake of who we could be. We’re afraid to let the preschool truly take ownership of our shared future. The thing I struggle with, and maybe some of you struggle with, too, is that the preschool isn’t really my personal calling. I don’t know what I can do to support their work.

But you know what? Jesus didn’t say that building his kingdom would be easy. He didn’t say that everyone could keep doing whatever they personally wanted to do. He said that we should follow him wherever he leads, and be willing to let go of what we thought our future would be for the sake of the glorious future that awaits us in God’s kingdom. He said that we would almost certainly suffer along the way, but he will be with us, even to the end of the age. And he said that it is not the journey that matters, but the destination, and he has a wonderful destination in store for us, as the world is transformed into a place where everyone can flourish. Amen.

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Jonathan Kimball wrote this sermon to be preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on August 13, 2023, using Matthew 14:22-33. Due to illness, he was unable to preach, and Susan Murray preached a modified version. The podcast reflects her changes, which add a different perspective.

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We’re about in the middle of Matthew and pretty far along in Jesus’s ministry. Let me back up to an earlier scene. Matthew 5-7 is the Sermon on the Mount, probably the greatest sermon ever preached. Afterwards, people started following Jesus, and he decided to go across the Sea of Galilee with his disciples. A storm came up while Jesus slept. Finally, the disciples woke Jesus, and in Matthew 8:26, he rebuked the winds and the sea, and all was calm. The disciples said to each other, “What sort of person is this? Even the winds and the sea obey him!”

Fast forward to last week’s lesson. Jesus was preaching and a huge crowd gathered. The disciples want to send everyone away, but Jesus said, “No, you feed them. Here, give me whatever bread and fish you have, and I’ll help you.” They witness a great miracle where 5 loaves and 2 fish feed 5000 men plus some number of women and children. All ate and were satisfied.

Then Jesus sends the disciples away on the boat while he deals with the crowd. This can be read as foreshadowing the days of the early church. We often describe the church as a metaphorical ship. Indeed, look up at the ceiling of this church—it seems to have been designed to evoke the sense that we are inside a great ship. Throughout the first few centuries after Christ’s ascension, boats and ships were used in artwork to represent the nascent church.

So the disciples are all alone in the church, er, I mean, the boat. Have you ever been on the water in a storm? Terrifying, isn’t it? Especially at night. And the disciples didn’t have a radio, or lights, or binoculars, or anything. Dawn is approaching but the sun has not yet risen, and because of the storm, it was probably very dark. The Sea of Galilee isn’t huge, but it’s big enough to build up some good storms, and big enough to drown in. When you’re in a storm like that, you feel totally helpless. You can try to get the boat turned in such a way that the big waves won’t swamp you, but steering is nearly impossible.

The disciples have seen Jesus still a storm like this before. They just saw him feed 5000 men, besides women and children, with a meager offering of food. But Jesus isn’t there. They cannot imagine that Jesus can help them now. Sure, he helped them before, but that was then. This situation is totally different.

So then they see Jesus walking towards them and think it’s a ghost! Surely Jesus can’t just show up here, right? All the miraculous events of their past don’t prepare them for the next miracle. They may be growing, but they are still young in their faith. They haven’t yet figured out just who Jesus is and what he is capable of. I’m not sure what they were thinking exactly when they left Jesus behind. Did they not think that he had some sort of plan to join them later?

Then Jesus says those classic words, “Do not be afraid.” Throughout the Bible, whenever God or God’s messengers show up, people respond with fear and trembling. Yet the message always begins with, “Fear not.” We are scared to encounter the Divine, but God’s message is always one of encouragement, one of hope, one of love.

Peter gets the message—sort of. He is willing to step out in faith, but only if Jesus gives him assurance. Peter is maybe further along in his understanding than the other disciples, but is still struggling to really believe what Jesus is capable of. He wants to believe that Jesus will save them, but he can’t believe with his whole heart. His encounter with the Divine still doesn’t overcome the fear provoked by the chaos swirling around him. He wants to believe, so he steps out in faith that Jesus will protect him. Yet just one little step and his confidence falters. He still feels like he’s all alone and has to rely on his own power, and he knows that he is just a man and so he can’t walk on water.

But Jesus is right there! Jesus told him that it would be OK! Jesus has demonstrated again and again his power over this world! There is a participatory nature to all of Jesus’s miracles, though. He does most of the work, but not all. Peter’s fear blocks the inbreaking of God’s realm. Peter’s fear prevents him from truly encountering the Divine.

Yet Jesus is real. Jesus is present with Peter. Jesus saves Peter, and then saves the rest of the disciples. Finally, they get it. They truly believe that Jesus is not just a teacher, not just a prophet, but indeed the Son of God.

As I said, this story can be read as an allegory for the church. When the New Testament was written, Jesus had ascended to heaven and left the disciples behind to carry on. If you read through Paul’s letters and the other letters and the Book of Acts, you can tell that there is a lot of turmoil in the church. Some of it is internal: there were clearly two factions, one who thought that following Christ meant first being a Jew, and one who thought that Christ’s actions removed all obstacles for Gentiles to join in God’s kingdom. Again and again, Paul fights with enemies about the need for circumcision. But much of the turmoil is external. Paul enters the story in Acts when Stephen, the church’s first martyr, is stoned. Stephen is far from the last martyr, though. Jesus’s brother James, who became the head of the movement after Jesus’s crucifixion, was martyred. Eventually, most of the original twelve disciples were martyred. Jerusalem was ransacked and the Temple was destroyed. Christians, especially Gentile Christians, were outcasts both from Roman society and from Jewish communities.

In those turbulent times, Peter was one of the leaders. As Jesus said, “On this rock I will build my church.” Peter was trying to guide the ragtag movement and help them develop a distinct identity without the central figure of Jesus to rally around. Yet, even though Jesus was crucified and had ascended to heaven, Peter knew that Christ was alive and present to him. Present to all of them. Peter trusted that Christ would guide the church if they would only let him.

This is still God’s message to the church today. In this story, Jesus was not a ghost. He was real. He was present to Peter. He saved the disciples from the storms. In the early days after his resurrection, Jesus was real. He was present with the disciples and guided them on the Way. He gave them a mission, or rather a commission, to go into all the world making disciples and teaching them. He promised that he would always be with them, to the end of the age.

Christ is still here. Not in bodily form, but by the power of the Holy Spirit. Christ is really and truly present among us. Many Christians are functional atheists, meaning that they believe in God in the abstract but not that God is present in any real way. But Christ promised to always be with us until the end of the age. Christ will save us from the storms in our lives.

And not only in our individual lives, but also in our corporate lives. Christ is here in this place, strengthening and guiding the Church. Christ is ready to help us walk on water, if we will only take the first step. Christ is ready to host a great feast, if we will only give Him our meager starting supplies.

Now, as I said, those first few years were turbulent times for the Church, and the storms persist to this day. What can we do to survive the storms that are swirling about us? I’m not sure, but I do know that the Church, with a capital C, will survive. I do know that God is still working through us, individually and as a congregation. I do know that the Holy Spirit binds us together and strengthens us. I do know that we can continue to function as Christ’s body in the world if we will only let Him dwell within us.

When you’re in a storm on the sea, there are two options. One, you can keep heading towards your destination regardless of the wind and the waves. That’s a recipe for disaster. That leaves the boat open to waves coming over the side, or to the wind and waves knocking you over. You may think that the shortest path is the quickest path, which is true in some situations, but not when a storm is raging. There’s another option, though: running before the storm. Whichever way the wind and the waves are heading, that’s where you need to go. Let them push you along instead of fighting against them. In the short term, it feels wrong to go away from your destination, but if the option is being swamped or capsizing, any direction that keeps you upright is better. Your best bet is to run before the storm until it subsides, and then figure out where to go.

We can be confident that Christ will be with us whether the seas are calm or the storm is raging. We can be confident that He will come to us and protect us. We can be confident that He will enable us to do miraculous things, if we only trust in Him. Let us pray not only for Christ’s presence with us, but also for the courage to step out in faith as Peter did, and the faith to believe that Christ will be with us each step of the way. Amen.

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Preached on August 6, 2023, at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on Matthew 14:13-21.

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Let me set the scene. The passage right before this one is about Herod Antipas and John the Baptist. John had been critical of Herod and his wife Herodias, so they both wanted rid of him. Herod arrested him but was afraid to do anything more. At a lavish banquet, Herodias uses her daughter to force his hand, and as a result, Herod had John the Baptist killed.

Jesus and his disciples hear of this. I think it’s safe to say that all of them were at least peripherally involved with John the Baptist’s movement, and were probably all baptized by him or his followers. Jesus is particularly grieved, so he withdraws to be by himself. Yet he cannot escape the crowds.

Put yourself in the place of a disciple. You are grieving, and you know that Jesus is grieving, too. You thought that being far away from towns and villages, in a wild desert, would give you the space you needed to be with your close friends and commiserate. But here come the crowds. Not a handful of people, not a hundred people, but 5000 men, plus some women and children, who knows how many. We’re talking about the entire student population at Missouri S&T plus all of the faculty and staff. We’re talking about four times the population of Capernaum. Like, can’t you please leave us alone?

So then, the hour starts getting late. You’re hungry, everyone is getting hungry. It’s a big crowd of hungry people. That’s not just unpleasant; it’s dangerous. People are getting grouchy. They’re hot and tired on top of it, and so are you. You’ve just spent hours walking to this deserted place for some solace, then helping people who can’t hear what Jesus is saying or can’t understand his teachings, and you’re hot and tired and hungry and oh LORD can this day just end.

So, you grab a couple of the other disciples and go over to Jesus and say, “Look, it’s been a long day. Everyone is getting hungry. If we let them go now, maybe they’ll be able to scrounge up food in the villages before nightfall. Don’t you want a break? We sure do.” You figure that Jesus has no choice, but you’ve forgotten just who you are talking to.

Jesus responds, “No, don’t send them away—feed them!” What? Feed them with what? We barely have enough food for ourselves. How are we going to feed a whole city’s worth of people? A good-sized city’s worth of people? If we tell them we’re going to feed them, and then we run out, that will be even worse than not promising anything in the first place!

And yet, Jesus convinces the disciples that he has things under control. The disciples go along with it, because they don’t really have a better plan. The people sit down, and Jesus provides for them. The disciples experience the only miracle that is reported in all four Gospels, one so outrageous that everyone remembered it, even though somehow people forgot about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.

They all sit down, and Jesus does something totally ordinary. He blesses bread and breaks it. We invoke this same formula when we celebrate the Eucharist, so we treat it as sacred, but in reality, this was just convention. Last weekend, I was at a retreat at a Jesuit retreat center. The Catholic tradition is to genuflect, then say a particular prayer that you would probably recognize, and then start their meal. The formula here is basically the same kind of thing except in the culture and religion of first-century Galilee. Before they ate, the host of the meal would bless the bread and break it.

But in Jesus’s hands, the ordinary becomes sacred. He is given some ordinary bread, and he performs an ordinary act, and suddenly, the veil is lifted. God’s realm peeks through. Instead of a meager meal of crumbs, the crowd has enough. They eat and are satisfied. And there’s some leftover for tomorrow—not a lot, but enough. Enough that the disciples will be able to move on to the next task, the next place, the next miracle.

What is the difference between the sacred and the profane? In Acts, Peter is shown and told, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” In that time and place, certain foods and certain actions and certain places and even certain people were considered unclean, profane. In our time, we have a different understanding and draw different boundaries, but still there’s a sense that some things are unclean, profane. But Jesus demonstrates that it is not the bread, or the person, or the place that is profane or sacred. Rather, it is the presence or absence of God and God’s realm. And wherever Jesus is, God’s realm breaks through. The ordinary and profane suddenly becomes sacred.

Now, let’s imagine the scene from the perspective of someone in the crowd. You were at home, toiling away, and someone said, “Hey, you know that guy we’ve been hearing so much about, Jesus of Nazareth? My buddy said he’s out in the wilderness that direction and a bunch of people are listening to him preach. Let’s go!” You grab your spouse and your kids, and start walking. You’re in a hurry because you don’t want to miss it, since you’re not sure how far you’ll have to walk. You get there and it’s just as amazing as you expected. Jesus is a great orator. The way he says things just cuts you right to the heart sometimes, and other times fills you with joy, and other times inspires you to change your life. You see one of his disciples and ask him to clarify something, some parable that Jesus taught, and the disciple is almost as inspiring as Jesus is. Even your kids are enthralled. This goes on for hours, though, and eventually your kids start nagging you for a snack. You rushed out into the wilderness, so you only have whatever was in your pockets at the time, which wasn’t much. You start thinking, “Uh-oh. It’s getting late, I’m hungry, they’re hungry, and we’re a long way from home. We passed a little village on the way, but there’s an awful lot of people here. If we all went to that village, we would be like a horde of locusts! I should have brought more with me.”

Just as you’re about to give up and tell your family that you all need to hurry home to get something to eat, a disciple comes around again. He says, “Have a seat. Jesus is working on something. I’ll be right back.” Huh, how strange. Well, this Jesus guy seems so wise, so surely he knows that we’re all hungry. Oh look, the disciple is coming back. He hands around a basket that has bread in it—so full! Where did he get all this bread? You grab a hunk of bread, and so does everyone else in your family, and the neighbor who walked out to the wilderness with you. At first, you’re hesitant, because you don’t want to be a glutton, but there seems to be plenty, so you grab a big hunk. Oh, and here comes the fish! You think, I haven’t had fish in a while. I’ll just have a little piece. Wait—that basket is full, too, so I might as well have a big hunk! What a great meal!

So, the meal is over, the disciples circulate around gathering up the leftovers, and then they go get in their boat while Jesus gives a brief after-dinner talk. What an inspiration! Your family leaves for home, filled with joy, filled with anticipation of a glorious future, convinced that the time is coming when God’s kingdom will be established.

Now, what do you think: Who provided the bread and fish? Was it Jesus? Was it the disciples? The disciple said that Jesus was working on something, so maybe Jesus had someone deliver it. But the disciples were the ones gathering up the leftovers and taking it on their boat, so maybe they brought it in their boat and Jesus just had to figure out how much of it they could spare or how he would distribute it to the large crowd.

I don’t know what the original crowd thought. Was it Jesus? Was it the disciples? Was it the other people in the crowd? Who knows? But here’s what I do know: the disciples knew exactly what happened and who was their source of strength. Whatever the crowd thought, the disciples left knowing that Jesus could do almost anything. Jesus could take whatever meager offering they made and multiply it in their hands. His miraculous actions would have inspired the disciples to keep working for the glory of God’s kingdom. They would have known that they could always rely on Jesus to work through them, so they would have been encouraged to rely even more on Jesus.

In the same way, Jesus will multiply our efforts. Whenever we are working for the glory of His kingdom, Jesus will work alongside us, if we only ask. Imagine if the disciples had just tried to feed the crowd on their own without asking Jesus for help. How far would their five loaves and two fishes have gone? Not very. But instead of relying on their own efforts and their own resources, they dedicated all that they had and all that they were to service for God’s kingdom. In return, Jesus transformed them and transformed the gathering from just a random crowd listening to an inspirational speaker into a glimpse of the messianic banquet that will come at the end of the age.

Christ offers us the same help. We are Christ’s body in the world. That means we can rely on Christ’s presence with us, by the Holy Spirit, acting through us and multiplying our efforts. You may think, I can’t do as much as I used to. Or, I don’t have the time and energy to do ONE MORE THING. Or, I don’t know where to start. Well, same here, but almost exactly three years ago, I did SOMETHING. One chapter of my life was over. We were settled into a new house, and my youngest kid had gone off to college, so I was looking for whatever would be next. So I started a social organization in the middle of a pandemic when social gathering was impossible. And yet, because I gave a little bit of myself for the glory of God’s kingdom, God multiplied my efforts, and now the organization has taken on a life of its own.

I don’t know what your personal calling is, or if you have found your partners in ministry yet. I do know, though, that if you seek God’s guidance and commit your work to God’s glory and not your own, God’s kingdom will peek through. Maybe not immediately, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next year, but someday. And meanwhile, Christ will be right there beside you each step of the way, guiding you and amplifying your voice and multiplying your efforts and impact. When you think there is nothing more to give, Christ invites you to His Table to get replenished. So we turn now towards that Table, where our small offering of bread and juice will transform into a foretaste of the banquet that comes at the end of the age, the bread of life and the cup of salvation that sustain us on our journey. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on July 23, 2023. Based on Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43.

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In today’s agricultural parable, we hear about “weeds” among the wheat. The Greek word used is “zizanion,” generally understood to be darnel. This is an especially undesirable weed for a couple of reasons. First, it looks very much like wheat, so much so that it is sometimes called “false wheat.” Its growth pattern is similar to wheat, and its roots wrap around the roots of the wheat plants. The similarity remains until the ears of grain appear. Only then can you reliably tell the difference. And it’s a good thing you can! Darnel is considered poisonous. In small amounts, it produces an effect like drunkenness. In larger amounts, it can be fatal. Under Roman law, sowing darnel in another person’s field wasn’t just bad manners—it was a crime because the darnel was so dangerous.

So we’re not talking about dandelions here. We’re not talking about something that looks bad or that causes a little bit of damage. We’re talking about poison. Poison that can kill. And yet, in the parable, the master says, “Let it grow until we can be sure which plants are good and which plants are bad.”

Jesus likens the weeds to evildoers. Often, this is taken further to include anyone who does not follow God’s law. If you follow city politics at all, you know that there is a movement afoot to institute a new ordinance against drag performances, largely led by some pastors and their followers. One man who spoke at the council meeting on June 19 kept shouting, “God’s word is true!” and threatening that judgment and vengeance were coming for all of us who do not believe what he does or behave in the way that he thinks we should. (Note: I spoke immediately after him. At the bottom of this message, I have links to some articles.)

So, let’s do a thought experiment. Let’s cleanse our congregation. The first to go are the heretics, so that they cannot lead other people astray. John Nipper preached on Trinity Sunday, the most dangerous Sunday of them all. Afterwards, I shared a video with him called, “St. Patrick’s Bad Analogies.” It’s an excellent video that I would encourage you all to watch. St. Patrick gives a bunch of different analogies for the Trinity, and each time, the two supposedly “simple folk” he was talking to explained why he was repeating an ancient heresy. John recognized his own teaching somewhere in the video, so I guess he has to go. There’s a podcast I listen to called “The Heretic Happy Hour.” Each guest is asked why they might be called a heretic, and boy, there’s lots of reasons.

OK, suppose you are not guilty of any heresies. Next to go are the hypocrites. We surely don’t want people who fail to live up to their own ideals! Those outside the church most often criticize “the church” for its hypocrisy, so I guess we’d better purge them all to keep from getting a bad name.

Next, let’s get rid of anyone who has any doubts. I’ve heard it said that doubt is the enemy of faith. Now I’m not so sure about that, but this is just a thought experiment. So the doubters gotta go.

Finally, any sinners remaining better get out. We don’t want their sin poisoning our fellowship. I think Paul said something about that, regarding someone who was engaged in some sort of impropriety.

Heretics, hypocrites, doubters, and sinners. If they’re all gone, is anyone left? Not only that, but at each step of the process, we’re losing the spiritual gifts of people who have lots to give. Our fellowship is enriched by the diversity of perspectives we get from everyone who is willing to be part of it. We learn from each other, we lean on each other, and our gifts reinforce so that we can accomplish far more than we could with some hypothetical “pure” fellowship.

So, you belong. Everyone in this room belongs. Everyone listening online belongs. Everyone who is connected to our church in some way belongs. We all have a gift to share. Each one of us channels God’s love in a unique way. Some are better at being out in front. Some are better at working behind the scenes. Some are better sitting beside you while you heal or while you grieve. Some have musical or other artistic talents that glorify God and enliven our worship. Some just bring joy by being around you.

We all belong. We all have these different gifts, and all form one body. But I know that we are deficient. I know that we do not have the diversity that we need to truly be Christ’s body. Churches are some of the only multi-generational organizations, where you’ll find children and octogenarians and everything in-between. The most vital churches have people of different races and ethnicities, from different classes and professions, with different educational and life experiences. Each new perspective adds depth and color and vibrance to the church. We have some of that, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

What entitles us to membership in Christ’s body that is the church? What have you done to earn your place here today? Well, honestly, nothing. We are all here by the grace of God. We all bear God’s image. We are all made to be channels of God’s love. We have all been chosen by God. Grace is the ultimate unearned privilege, the gift we receive because God wants to give it to us.

And if we belong here today by God’s grace, what about people in the community? Don’t they belong here, too? God’s grace is a free gift, freely given to all those God chooses. It is not up to us to choose who is a weed and who is wheat. It is up to God. God knows who will bear fruit for the kingdom. I believe there are dozens, hundreds, even thousands of people in Rolla who do not currently belong to any church but who have been chosen by God for some task to build God’s kingdom. How much more effective would they be with a community of supporters? How much more would they be able to transform the world if they were aligned with others who saw the world in the same way, who shared their calling?

I also believe that for some large fraction of those people who need a community, this church is not the right place for them. Each person needs to find their own path and their own community. There are some people I work with in the community who are not Christian and never will be, but they are nevertheless building God’s kingdom. They are showing love in their own way. Even churches I disagree with, some vehemently, have a job to do for the good of God’s kingdom. Heretics and hypocrites—but different heresies and hypocrisies than my own. Those churches fill a need for some people. Some people need to be told what to believe, whereas I need to have the freedom to follow God wherever They lead me. Some people need the tangible presence of the Holy Spirit, whereas I am deeply suspicious of those supposed experiences. That’s fine—that’s why I’m here and not at First Assembly or Greentree or Harvest Worship Center.

But there are certainly some people in Rolla and in Phelps County and surrounding areas who need to hear the message we have about God’s love. There are people who hunger and thirst for righteousness, but don’t know how to find the bread of life or the living water that we know about. There are people who care deeply about the same things that we care deeply about, who can build us up while we build them up.

So I have another thought experiment. Let’s suppose we decide we want to have the most impure church of them all. Are you a heretic? Good! Join our Bible study; I’m sure you’ll liven it up. Too often, we read the Bible and see things that aren’t really there, because we’ve been told that they are. We need someone to question our assumptions so we can more nearly approach the Truth revealed in Scripture. Are you a hypocrite? Well, join the club. Let’s work together on cleaning up our hypocrisies. Let me tell you how I’m trying to improve, and you tell me how you’re trying to improve, and together, maybe we’ll find a better way to follow God. Are you a doubter? Well, thank God, because I am, too. I mean, geez, some of the stuff in the Bible is just unbelievable. Have you ever read it? There’s some weird stuff in there. Are you a sinner? Well, aren’t we all? Who am I to judge your sin? I’ll judge my own, and you can judge your own, and we’ll rely upon God’s grace to save us both.

That would be a whole lot more exciting! I’m sure we can be more successful inviting heretics and doubters to join us than seeking perfect believers. There’s a lot bigger pool to draw from. If nothing else, it would demonstrate intellectual humility. Some people try to find a church with exclusive access to the Truth, with a capital T. Like, after 2000 years, one church will finally get it right. I think it’s more likely that we’re all wrong, and we would come a lot closer to living the way God intends if we just live in that uncertainty and prioritize being loving over being right.

Somewhere in Rolla, right now, outside our doors, someone needs to hear about a God of love, a God of forgiveness, a God of grace, a God who accepts us in all of our messiness and imperfection, a God who desires them to flourish and grow. So I asked you last week: Who do you seek to share this love, this message of God’s kingdom with? What is your particular calling? Who do you seek to serve?

Ming asked me after worship last week, “So what’s next?” I told him to come this week, so I guess it’s time for me to deliver on that. Have you all had time to think and pray about your calling? Did you bring your card back? If not, there are more cards by the stack of hymnals in the narthex. First of all, if you weren’t here last week, let me walk you through what you missed. I want you to identify one thing, one calling, something that you personally feel called to do. Someone that you want to serve. Someone to whom you want to show God’s love. My rule is, it has to be someone, some group, outside this church and outside your family. I assume that you all want to love each other and love your families, but that’s not what we’re after here. What is the one thing that really calls to your inner being? Maybe it’s something you’re already doing, or maybe it’s something that has been nagging at you, something you want to start. Or maybe you already do a lot of different things and you need to figure out what ties them all together. Like I said last week, I do a lot, but there is one thread that runs through it all.

Once you know what that one thing is, or at least have some idea of what it might be, your next task is to think of three people in this congregation who might share that same calling, or something close to it. People who can help you, support you, and give you ideas and inspiration.

So now, I want you to really think hard about it. If you have already thought this all through, start thinking about one step you might take to follow God’s calling, God’s claim on your heart and your life. If you haven’t come up with your one thing yet, maybe jot down a few things that kind of circle around your calling, or a few spiritual gifts that you think you have to offer someone else. I’m going to give you a few minutes now to do that.

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OK, so you have that ready? Now, I want you to hold that card close to your heart, and we will pray together. Then keep it all in your heart and mind while we conclude the worship service. Keep it in your heart while you affirm your faith in our ever-present God. Keep it in your heart while we lift up our gifts to God. Keep it in your heart while we sing together and while Randy offers his gift of music to God. And then after worship, go find one of the people on your card and talk with them. If they’re not here today, call or email them this week. If you haven’t figured out your own calling, perhaps it’s because someone else is about to ask you to help them. Maybe you have a particular insight, a particular gift, that someone else needs right now. And I believe that through the Holy Spirit, we will each find our partners in ministry. As Brian McLaren said, “It’s not about the church meeting your needs; it’s about joining the mission of God’s people to meet the world’s needs.”

So now hold your card to your heart, and let’s pray:

Come, Holy Spirit. Come among us and guide us. Bless each person’s gifts and show each of us how best to use those gifts to build your kingdom. Guide us as we seek to transform the world with your love. Help us each to find our partners in ministry so that together, we can do more than we ever can do alone. Bind us together into one body, Christ’s body, to walk where Christ walks, to see and hear with Christ’s eyes and ears, to work with Christ’s hands, and to love with Christ’s heart. All this we ask in Jesus’ name, Amen.

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I referenced a controversy in Rolla. LGBTQ+ Rolla hosted its third Pride celebration this year. We moved to a spot in downtown Rolla and included entertainment: Rodney Wilson, founder of LGBTQ+ History Month; Mystic Sands Bellydance Troupe; and a drag show led by Roxanna Rexia. Although there was no nudity and no sexually explicit content, this incurred the wrath of some pastors in town. Here are some articles about it.

Article about June 19 meeting from Phelps County Focus

Article about July 17 meeting from Phelps County Focus

Article about July 17 meeting from NPR

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on July 16, 2023. Based on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23.

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Who here is a gardener? Rhonda is, and her parents are, but I’m not. My preference is to buy produce at the store, or perhaps at the farmer’s market. If we must grow our own vegetables, then my preference is to buy plants, not seeds.

Rhonda’s parents are a lot more dedicated, though. In about February, which is probably too early, they start plants from seeds in their garage. They have two big tables that they cover with little seed-starter pots. They put the trays of pots on heating mats, and when the seeds germinate, they start the grow lights. Once the weather is acceptable and the plants are reasonably large, they put the plants outside for brief times to harden them, then eventually plant them in the garden. If a frost comes, they cover the baby plants with straw to protect them.

Now, perhaps this is an appropriate approach to growing vegetables, but it is not at all what farmers do to grow grain. This parable describes very different agricultural practices, which were common at the time. First, the land is cleared. There’s no discussion of tilling the ground, but presumably the farmer does something to get the ground ready. Then, the seed is spread indiscriminately. Not placed carefully in neat rows, but broadcast, kind of like the way we might plant grass. Well, after all, wheat is a grass, so that makes sense.

I did a little bit of research about wheat germination. If you take particular care of the seed, storing it at the right temperature and humidity, and plant it at the right time, you might get 92% germination rate. However, if you allow the moisture content to get too high, or you have certain kinds of wheat, or your timing is off, perhaps the germination rate is as low as 8%.

All in all, farming in ancient Judea and Galilee was a dicey proposition. Even setting aside the heavy tax burden, the methods and materials and equipment available to them were far less sophisticated than modern farming. Jesus’s audience would have known all of this. They would have known how hard they had to work to get a good wheat crop each year. They would have known how careful they needed to be with their seeds. They would have known how important the soil is to the success of their harvest, but also how little control they had over where they were able to sow. I mean, it’s not like they could just choose a different plot of land—they had to sow and reap on their own land. Maybe that land would be hard packed in places due to footpaths. Maybe that land would be rocky. Maybe that land would be adjacent to wild thorn bushes that would invade after they planted their crops.

Jesus used this common knowledge to teach his audience about the kingdom of God. One way to hear this parable is to consider yourself to be the soil. Hear and understand, not like the ones he likens to the path. Have deep roots, not like the ones he likens to rocky soil. Keep free of the cares of the world and the lures of wealth, not like the ones he likens to wheat among the thorns. Yield good fruit, thirty or sixty or a hundred-fold.

Absolutely. We should absolutely strive to be good soil, receptive to the message of God’s love. Repent! Turn away from the cares of the world. Have deep roots, and be willing to go wherever God calls you, even if it means carrying your cross, being accused of disrupting society or even of sedition.

But in verse 18, Jesus calls this “the parable of the sower,” not the parable of the good soil. So, he must have been trying to teach his disciples something about the action of the sower. When he is explaining the four scenarios, he starts with, “this is the one who hears the word.” So somehow, Jesus is trying to connect the action of the sower to the ones who hear the word of God’s love.

Who is the sower? Well, it could be God. The Holy Spirit does indeed flow over people, and Creation itself sings of God’s goodness. Perhaps Jesus was describing what he was doing. But I think he was trying to teach his disciples that they should be good sowers.

Let’s think again about the farming process. One season, you harvest your crops. You eat what you need, sell what you can, and save back some seed for the next year. When the time is right, you clear the land and prepare it to receive the new planting. Then you spread seed broadly over the land.

So, the first step is to feed yourself. Hear God’s Word. Study it. Experience it. Immerse yourself in God’s love. Be a part of a community that helps you connect with God. Then filled with the Holy Spirit, filled with love for God and for your neighbor, you will be ready to go forth and spread the seed of God’s love in other hearts. Remember, the kingdom of God is marked by abundance, not scarcity. There is always plenty of love to go around. If you feel depleted, it’s because you’re giving more than you’re getting, and you need to refocus on feeding yourself. Each person has different needs; figure out your needs, what you need to feel spiritually replenished.

Then go and spread love. The sower spreads seed indiscriminately. They know that some places won’t produce and some seeds won’t grow, but they don’t know which ones, not really. Like the sower, spread love indiscriminately. Jesus said to love your neighbor, and basically kept re-defining “neighbors” to include everyone. He never taught anyone to withhold their love, but rather that people who seem unlovable are like the barren ground—they just haven’t received the seed of God’s love yet. But if you plant love there, it might yield fruit.

Might. Jesus didn’t give his disciples any guarantees. He knew that some people are just not receptive to the message, and others seem receptive but don’t stick with it. Perhaps this is a counterbalance to his commissioning back a few chapters. I spoke about Matthew 10 a couple of weeks ago. Jesus had been working hard, teaching and preaching all around Galilee, and he decided to commission some disciples to work in his name. He gave them some instructions, which honestly were a little bit intimidating. I mean, he said they were like sheep among wolves, that they would be handed over to councils and flogged in synagogues and they would be hated by all. Gee, sign me up. Still, the disciples went forth and came back rejoicing! Well, even if they had some initial success, there was no guarantee of their long-term success. Building God’s kingdom is a marathon, not a sprint. So perhaps Jesus wanted to embolden them a bit, so they wouldn’t be disheartened when they returned to a village and found that people had turned away from what they had taught.

Jesus said when he commissioned the disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” He knew that God would multiply the efforts of the disciples. Their little bit of work would yield fruit 30, 60, or 100-fold. They might return to a village and find that some were like the seed that fell on the path, or like the seed that fell on rocky ground, or like the seed that was choked out by thorns. But they would find some who were like the seed that fell on good soil. Those few who heard the good news, understood it, grew deep roots to tap into God’s love, and turned away from the cares of the world would produce fruit in abundance for God’s kingdom. They in turn would spread God’s love to others, who would spread it to others, and so on until the world is transformed.

Have you ever wondered what it would have been like to be among those early followers of Jesus, or of the movement that sprouted after his resurrection? Hearing stories straight from the Son of God, or from eyewitnesses of his life. Seeing the signs of the inbreaking of God’s kingdom. From a few close disciples, a movement spread, first across Judea and Galilee, then later around the Roman Empire and points beyond. It grew from a small sect within a minor religion to the largest religion in the world. How did this happen? From people telling stories of their encounters with God, caring for their neighbors, and holding firm to the teachings that they received. God indeed multiplied the efforts of those early Jesus-followers to create a massive network of believers.

What we have seen in America and other Western nations over the past generation or two is a steady erosion of that network. Five hundred years ago, the western church splintered into thousands of denominations. Collectively, these splinters retained enormous cultural power, but fifty years or so ago, that cultural power was disrupted so that now, people no longer feel a need to be Christian to be part of society. This has had all sorts of negative effects on established churches, but one important positive effect is that we now need to think seriously about what we’re doing. We can’t just go through the motions and keep doing what we’ve always done because we’ve always done it. No longer do people attend church because their parents told them to, at least adults don’t. They consciously choose what to believe, what community to join, and how to connect to the Divine.

So, the task before us is to sow God’s love broadly, among people who don’t automatically assume that Christians are the kind of people they want to be around, but more often the opposite. We are tasked with sowing God’s love—somewhere. Remember what I said a couple of weeks ago, about God’s call to each of us individually and to all of us as a congregation? Well, it’s time to be specific. Everyone should have received a note card on their way in, and there should be pencils in the pews. I’m not going to collect the cards, but I do want you to use them. Here’s what I want you to do right now. I want you to think about God’s particular calling for you personally. Forget about what the church is doing. Just think about what you are called to do. What are you passionate about? Who do you feel called to serve? Who do you feel called to love? What you write down could reflect something you are already doing, or it could be something that has been nagging at you, a discomfort that is calling you to action.

Eventually, after you have really thought things through, you should only have ONE calling. I mean, I do lots of different things, but they all have ONE thread that ties them all together. If you’re wondering which activity in your life is your actual calling, maybe ask yourself: if there’s a schedule conflict, which one would you choose?

Once you have that down, I want you to take another step and think about who in this congregation might have a similar calling. Maybe not the same, but similar. Someone who might want to help you in whatever you’re called to do, or who might have some ideas that would help you. Try to come up with three names. The challenge will be to get people whose ONE THING is connected to your ONE THING.

So, let’s take a few minutes and think about that, writing notes on your card, and then we’ll pray.

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Let’s pray: Lord God, we thank you for the strength you give us by your Holy Spirit, and the way you bind us together and multiply our efforts so that we can transform the world into your glorious kingdom. Bless us now as we consider what steps we should take to be effective sowers of your love in our community. Give us courage and endurance, open hearts and open minds. In Jesus Christ we pray. Amen.

Now over the coming week, I want you all to continue thinking and praying about your calling. Feel free to talk with others about it, but don’t feel obligated to do so. Next week we have another agricultural parable, and we’ll think and pray more about our future together.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on July 2, 2023. Based on Romans 6:12-23.

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Brené Brown is a researcher in the field of social work. She catapulted to fame in 2010 when she gave a TEDx talk called “The Power of Vulnerability.” Her research is primarily in the area of leadership, vulnerability, and shame, and how they are all connected. It’s important to recognize that “guilt” and “shame” are separate concepts that are only loosely related. American culture is primarily built on a guilt-innocence paradigm. If you do something wrong, you are guilty and deserving of a proportional punishment. If not, you are innocent and do not deserve punishment.

Many cultures around the world, including that of Biblical Judea and several regions of the US, are built on an honor-shame paradigm. Brown grew up in such a culture in Texas. Shame is less factual and more emotional. Shame is about whether or not you measure up to your community’s standards. Often, these standards relate to gender and family roles. For example, maybe you are seen as not “manly” enough if you don’t act in a certain way. That doesn’t really incur “guilt,” because you haven’t actually violated any laws, but it does incur shame.

Shame is a powerful force embedded deep in the human psyche. Shame leads to being outcast, and in a primitive society, being outcast is nearly a death sentence. At the least, it’s an exclusion from the continuation of your family line.

Brown has studied the impact of shame on relationships for more than two decades. The challenge we face is that building a loving relationship requires vulnerability, but vulnerability then exposes us to the pain of shame. She wrote, “We desperately don’t want to experience shame, and we’re not willing to talk about it. Yet the only way to resolve shame is to talk about it. Maybe we’re afraid of topics like love and shame. Most of us like safety, certainty, and clarity. Shame and love are grounded in vulnerability and tenderness.” She also said that shame needs three ingredients to grow: secrecy, silence, and judgment. But what kills it is empathy.

Sin is associated with both guilt and shame. In a sense, guilt is easier to deal with. Suppose I steal something and therefore incur guilt. I can deal with the guilt by making restitution to the victim and possibly by being punished by the government, whether I’m fined or imprisoned. Now the guilt is dealt with by a proportional response. Shame is MUCH harder. Forever after, I would be branded as a thief and shunned by society. There are lots of jobs I wouldn’t be eligible for, and many of my friends would abandon me.

I think the best definition of sin is whatever separates us from each other or from God. In a sense, then, shame is sin. Shame causes us to hide from God, like Adam & Eve did in the Garden of Eden. Shame prevents us from confronting our guilt and repairing our relationships. Paul wrote that the “wages of sin is death.” Well, that death takes the form of shame that keeps us from thriving.

As I thought about the way sin and shame control us, I was reminded of some parasites that turn animals into zombies. Have you ever heard of those? They are fascinating. I don’t really understand how they work, except that they somehow take over their host’s brain. The Ophiocordyceps genus of fungi lives in an insect. The fungus controls the host insect’s brain and steers it to a place with the right temperature, humidity, and other conditions for the fungus to grow. When it matures, the fungus sprouts stalks and disperses spores to take over other insects.

Here’s another one. The Euhaplorchis californiensis is a kind of worm that grows in a carpet-like layer atop the brain of a California killifish. They can live and grow there, but they can only reproduce inside the guts of birds. So when they are ready, they force the fish to swim near the surface of the water and otherwise behave erratically so that a bird will see it and eat it. This is a more subtle form of control, in that the fish still basically behaves normally but does a few things that are risky. The worm basically suppresses the fish’s survival instincts.

Sin is like that Euhaplorchis californiensis worm. It burrows down inside of us and makes us do things we wouldn’t otherwise choose to do.  We fail to notice things that might harm us. The first few steps are innocuous enough, but gradually, we ignore the risks inherent to our behavior. Or like the Ophiocordyceps fungi, we let sin and shame steer us towards an environment where they can grow and blossom. We surround ourselves with people who encourage the wrong behaviors, or we hide from those who would help us escape the grip of our bad habits. Eventually, we become fully consumed by our sin and our shame.

But the promise of the Gospel is that we don’t have to stay in those dark places where shame grows. Through grace, we are forgiven of our sins. We don’t need to hide from God, for God knows our inmost heart and loves us anyway. God sees us as image-bearers, reflecting God’s goodness, no matter what the world sees. As we do each Sunday, we may approach God with boldness and confess our sins, assured in advance that God will forgive us and wash away all our shame. Rather than let it grow like a parasite in the darkness of secrecy, silence, and judgment, we may confess it in the light and be made clean and whole.

In some Christian traditions, the message ends there. But I say, what’s the point? Why does God forgive us? Why are we freed from our shame? Well, again, in some traditions, the answer is, “so we can go to heaven.” But as a universalist, that’s unsatisfying to me. And anyway, if that’s the only reason, why not wait until your deathbed, live a long life full of debauchery and get your freedom right at the end?

Paul writes, “Should we sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means!” He anticipated that argument. The Romans might say, Hey, we’re forgiven, so let’s go wild! Paul says no: that path still leads to separation from God, it still leads to shame, it still leads to death.

We are saved so that we are free from the grip of sin and shame. Instead, we are led to righteousness. Last week, I spoke about the vertical and horizontal dimensions of the kingdom of God. Well, our freedom from sin is what enables us to become aligned on these two axes. We are free to follow God, with no need to worry about God’s judgment on us. We are free to reconcile with one another, with no need to worry about either of us being judged. We are sanctified and we participate in the sanctification of the world.

We are all called individually to the ministry of reconciliation. I have a particular calling that I’ve spoken about, and I know that at least some of you have identified your own particular calling. These are ways that individually we may pursue God’s kingdom. One by one, we go into the world and show God’s love to people we meet. We come here to be spiritually fed, then we go out and proclaim that the kingdom of God is at hand, through our words and actions. We meet people where they are and help them to see God working in their lives.

But the larger question is, what ministry of reconciliation are we called to as a congregation? I can only do so much—I can only be in one place at a time, and I have a job and a family. The same goes for each person—everyone has limitations and obligations. But the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. If we are individually working in lots of different directions, we can affect people at an individual level. But if we all work in the same direction, our efforts reinforce one another and multiply.

On multiple occasions, as recently as last week, I’ve said that our job is not to build a church but to build the kingdom of God. What I mean is that our primary calling is to reconcile the whole world to God and to each other. That’s a huge task, one that is impossible. If we each do a little bit, though, and work in one little corner, God will amplify our efforts and God’s reign will break through. And if we all do a little bit in basically the same corner of God’s kingdom, we will support each other and strengthen each other.

The way that impacts our church, then, is that other people see what we’re doing and want to help, too. They want to be part of the inbreaking of God’s kingdom. They need the support we can give them, and they are willing to give us support when we need it.

I recently read an addendum to Good to Great by Jim Collins. He has mainly studied businesses that far outperformed their rivals, but also did a pilot study of nonprofits and other non-business organizations. An important part of the success of any organization is what he calls the “hedgehog concept.” There is an ancient Greek expression attributed to Archilochus, “A fox knows many things, but a hedgehog knows one big thing.” The hedgehog concept is the ONE THING that an organization does well. It’s at the intersection of what our passion is, what we can do better than everyone else, and what drives resources. In business, “resources” means money. In a church, “resources” means money, yes, but also time and energy and ideas and people.

We have been freed from the shame of our sins. Everyone in this room, everyone watching online, everyone who is connected to this church in any way, has been freed of their sins. And so has everyone else. But for those of us connected to this church, this extension of Christ’s body has been called to do ONE BIG THING to reconcile people to God, to take part in the transformation of the world. We will shortly go to the Lord’s Table to receive spiritual nourishment to strengthen us in our pursuit of God’s kingdom. How will we pursue righteousness? What is our calling? What are we prepared to do, as a church, to spread God’s love, to sanctify one little corner of God’s kingdom? Let us listen to the guiding of the Holy Spirit as we lean on each other and work side by side for the renewal of world. Amen.

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