When God Seems Hidden First Sunday Of Advent November 30, 2008

(First, read the text for this sermon: Isaiah 64:1-9)

Behold, the very first words of Scripture that we hear, to begin this season of Advent:

O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,
so that the mountains would quake at your presence –
as when fire kindles brushwood
and the fire causes water to boil –
to make your name known to your adversaries,
so that the nations might tremble at your presence!
When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect,
you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.

The prophet is engaging in spiritual nostalgia! The prophet is making an emotional plea, remembering what God has done in the past, and imploring God to do it again. That is because, at the time of this prophetic speaking, 2,600 years ago, give or take a few decades, God’s people are in exile. Their nation has been destroyed by the Babylonians. The people have been scattered.

Why did this terrible tragedy happen? The prophet speaks:

But you were angry, and we sinned;
because you hid yourself we transgressed.

In other words, in God’s anger over the people’s sin, God hid from the people – which meant that the people sinned even more, since they were left without God’s guidance.

Wow. What a view of God!

Is God far off, removed from our everyday lives? Does God hide, saying, “Let them fend for themselves!”

Many who dismiss God think that is exactly the way God is. It’s ironic. Many cultured despisers of religion are very well educated. But they can only conceive of God according to the old, pre-scientific three-tiered universe that they learned a small children in Sunday School, with God “up above,” or “out there” somewhere, far removed. And so, detractors with this view of God will say, “Where was God when hurricane Katrina happened?” “Where is God in the world financial crisis?” they ask. “How can you believe in a God who would allow such suffering to go on, in Darfur, or Iraq, or Afghanistan?”

Well, I can only speak for myself. As a Christian, I could not be able to believe in a god such as they describe: a god who would just go away and hide, instead of intervening in Darfur, or in Iraq, or in Afghanistan. But God is not like that! God is intervening, constantly, daily, in the flesh and blood of the human beings who are working so heroically to build justice and peace in those places of the world.

So – “Where was God when hurricane Katrina happened?” God was suffering with those who were drowning. God was suffering with those in the homeless shelters. God is intervening, in the flesh and blood of the volunteer workers who drive for hours to New Orleans, and who sleep on cots in church buildings, and go out during the day to help rebuild houses that still sit, destroyed.

“Where is God in the world financial crisis, when people are losing their jobs and their homes?” Wherever there is anxiety, or fear, or depression, or uncertainty, there is God, present, in those human beings’ flesh and blood, and among others in congregations and other communities providing strength and support.

In all of this, I’m simply taking seriously the incarnation – which is the fancy word that means: God become flesh and blood in Jesus the Christ. We read the bible through the lens of Jesus.

Jesus is the embodied word of God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth, as we read in the gospel of John. (John 1:14) As Christians, you and I affirm each week in the creed that God is in our flesh through Jesus the Christ, and that God is present to our thoughts and prayers and emotions through the Holy Spirit.

This Trinitarian perspective is much different from the view of God that the prophet Isaiah holds.

But we do read the Hebrew Scriptures because of the continuity of revelation. The Bible is always in conversation with itself. The Hebrew scriptures provide essential context to understand Jesus the Christ. And, aren’t there times when it does seem as if God is hidden, as the prophet Isaiah envisaged?

For myself, when it seems as if God is hidden, that is when I’m feeling like it’s all up to me; that every responsibility is on my shoulders, and if I fail then the whole enterprise comes crashing down. What a recipe for burnout, huh?

But – when it seems as if God is hidden, is that the case? Again, for what it’s worth, I’ll tell you what I have found, in my own faith journey. It’s not that God hides! It’s that I have become so turned in on myself, that I can’t get beyond my own anxiety, or my fear, or my sense of being unduly burdened – and so I can’t perceive the God who intercedes with sighs too deep for words. (Romans 8:24)

Let me invite you into the spiritual journey of the season of Advent. During these weeks, the Spirit invites us to listen in prayer – allowing the Spirit to uncover our protective layering, so that we can become aware of where we are wounded and anxious and afraid. Where does all that come from? We become aware of our great need for our savior. We become able to prepare for the joyous celebration of Christmas.

God the Holy Spirit uses Advent to open us to the fulfillment that will come from God: the time to come when there will be no more anxiety or fear, no more wounds, no more death. This new reign of God has begun in Jesus the Christ, risen from the dead. It will be fulfilled when the kingdom comes (which we pray for each week).

Advent is not ultimately about the coming of sweet little Jesus boy. God has come into our human flesh through Jesus the Christ! Advent is about being on the watch for the coming of God’s fulfillment to history.

Listen to how all of this is expressed, in the words of the Holy Communion Prayer of Thanksgiving that is appointed in the liturgy for this holy season of Advent:

With this bread and cup
we remember your Word
dwelling among us,
full of grace and truth.
We remember our new birth
in his death and resurrection.
We look with hope for his coming.

Holy God,
we long for your Spirit.
Come among us.
Bless this meal.
May your Word take flesh in us.
Awaken your people.
Fill us with your light.
Bring the gift of peace on earth.

All praise and glory are yours,
Holy One of Israel,
Word of God incarnate,
Power of the Most High,
one God, now and forever.

I pray for you a holy Advent.

In the name of that God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

Where Do We See Christ The King? Christ The King November 23, 2008

(First, read the text for this sermon: Matthew 25:31-46)

Did you see the PBS TV show two weeks ago, on the British monarchy? I turned it on because of the local angle. The documentary included the Queen’s visit to Virginia, and so it was fun to see familiar sights – in Richmond, Colonial Williamsburg, Jamestown, at the College of William and Mary.

What opulence surrounds the Queen! What ceremony! There are attendants everywhere. Host sites spend gobs of money in preparation for the Queen’s arrival. The Williamsburg Inn, for instance, installed new draperies in her room, and spread new bed sheets, and even put on a new a toilet seat. All the rooms to be visited by the Queen were covered by fresh coats of paint, in the Virginia State Capitol building, the Inn, and the White House. (One wag said that the Queen must think America smells like paint!)

But is any of this surprising? The preparations, the luxury, the servants waiting upon the monarch hand and foot, the regal separation from you and me in the unwashed minions – all of this is what we expect of a Queen or a King, right?

Today is Christ the King Sunday. And there are traditions within the Christian Tradition that would assign the same sort of regal trappings as I’ve been describing to Jesus the Christ, now that he is risen. Indeed, those traditions within the Christian Tradition produced language such as this, that we will say in the Apostles’ Creed in a few minutes:

On the third day he rose again;
he ascended into heaven,
he is seated at the right hand of the Father,
and he will come to judge the living and the dead.

It’s easy to read and speak words like those and envision that heavenly throne room, and to picture the royal retainers who will accompany Jesus on that return for judgment. The book of Revelation also amplifies such a picture, contributing to this tradition within the Christian Tradition.

But is that an accurate picture of Christ the King? Has Christ the King literally ascended to a physical place called heaven, somewhere up in the clouds; and is he now physically sitting in a throne room, “at the right hand of the Father,” who is sitting on his own throne? Many have problems with that! Indeed, many feel drawn towards the faith community, but the creeds are the deal breaker. These folks assume they have to believe the creeds literally, word-for-word, and since they can’t, they simply stay away from worship.

It is helpful to hear some words Marcus Borg has written about the creeds, in his brilliant book, The Heart of Christianity. Borg writes that the word, “creed” comes form the Latin word, credo; and he continues:

We commonly translate credo as “I believe.” And because most modern people understand “I believe” as “I give my assent to,” many Christians have difficulty with the creeds. Indeed, if I were to make a list of the ten questions I am most frequently asked when I talk to Christian groups, on that list would be, “What are we going to do with the creeds?” The reason: they think saying “I believe” means giving one’s mental assent to the literal truth of each statement in the creed. Assensus and literalism are often combined in the modern world, by believers and unbelievers alike.

But credo does not mean “I hereby agree to the literal-factual truth of the following statements.” Rather, its Latin roots combine to mean “I give my heart to.” The heart is the self at its deepest level, a level below the intellect. As the giving of one’s heart, credo means “I commit my loyalty to,” “I commit my allegiance to.”

Thus, when we say credo at the beginning of the creed, we are saying, “I give my heart to God.” And who is that? Who is the God to whom we commit our loyalty and allegiance? The rest of the creed tells the story of the one to whom we give our hearts: God as the maker of heaven and earth, God as known in Jesus, God as present in the Spirit.

“God as known in Jesus.” We Christians declare that God is known in Jesus.

With that in mind, let’s look at this morning’s portrayal in Matthew, of Christ the King.

It’s an apocalyptic drama! Listen to how it begins, with all the trappings of the regal, royal Christ the King who is separated from the unwashed minions: "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.”

Last week I talked about the crisis among first and second-generation Jesus people who could not understand why the promised end had not come – even though Jesus had been crucified and raised. Out of that crisis, doctrine evolved. For centuries before the birth of Jesus, there had been expectation among some Jews of the “Son of Man,” an apocalyptic figure who would descend from the clouds in sudden judgment on the day of the Lord. Why hadn’t the day of the Lord happened? Some of the Jesus people of the first couple of centuries came to understand that Jesus himself would return, as the Son of Man! This morning’s story in the gospel of Matthew reflects that doctrine that came to be formulated long after the life of Jesus.

For one more verse, the story in Matthew continues in that regal way: “Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world;’” Christ the King has come in royal judgment.

But then what does the story reveal? We read on. Those who inherit the kingdom are praised for this: for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.' (This is not like anything we would expect of a king!) Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?' And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.' “

One thing that is striking is that the “righteous” didn’t even know they were doing these things! There was no calculation! It just the way they lived.

And think about what’s even more striking. Where do we see Christ the King? It is in the faces of those who are hungry. It is in the faces of those who do not have clean water to drink. We see Christ the King among those who are strangers – which means those who are outcasts in society, those considered unclean, those who are worthless.

So – we see Christ the King when we see those lining up for food and clothing at FISH. We see Christ the King in those who have no health insurance, and who are forced to use hospital emergency rooms as their primary care clinics, long past the point of preventative care. We see Christ the King in the faces of those who are in prison. We see Christ the King in the faces of those who are gay and lesbian.

This is stunning stuff!

And it is frightening stuff – as we read on. Christ the King tells those who “are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.'”

Whoo, boy. What do we say to this? Does the story mean that we are accursed if we miss a single hungry person, or if we to not provide for even one person who is thirsty, or who is a stranger, or who is ill clothed or in prison?

Well, yes. That’s what the story means.

And so, it is impossible. You and I cannot save ourselves. We are dead in our sin.

And God’s law, impossible to fulfill, once again drives us back to the grace that comes to us through the waters of baptism.

Over and over again, we return to the waters when we assemble for worship. We practice the faith. Again and again we give our hearts to the God who we know in Christ Jesus! You heard me say it a few minutes ago, while I was standing right next to that baptismal font:

God, who is rich in mercy, loved us
even when we were dead in sin,
and made us alive together with Christ.
By grace you have been saved.
In the name of Jesus Christ,
your sins are forgiven.
Almighty God
strengthen you with power
through the Holy Spirit,
that Christ may live in your hearts
through faith.
(Evangelical Lutheran Worship, page 96)

Where do we see Christ the King? It is in the faces of those who are hungry and thirsty, those who are strangers, those who are naked and sick and in prison.

How are we empowered to serve Christ the King? It is through the power that is a gift from God – “Power through the Holy Spirit, that Christ may live in [our] hearts through faith.”

It is all grace, so that we may do the work God gives us to do, in servanthood to the God we know in the faces of the poor.

In the name of that God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

“Therefore Encourage One Another and Build Up Each Other” November 16, 2008 Pentecost 27 Lectionary 33

(First, read the passage for this sermon: 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11)

Would you like to know when the end will come?

Some would like to know that, in the tiny congregation that St. Paul founded in city of Thessalonica. This morning, we read some of what Paul wrote to them.

These letters to the Thessalonians are the earliest written material in the New Testament. They date to the early 50s. That means the Jesus movement is only a couple of decades old. When will the end come? It’s an urgent question because Jesus has been crucified, and then he has risen from the dead – but, still, what many Jesus people expected to happen has not happened. God’s promised Kingdom has not come on earth!

How can this be understood?

An early explanation develops: that there will be a second coming – of Jesus as the apocalyptic “Son of Man.” So, watch for that! But now, among the Thessalonians only a couple of decades after Jesus’ death and resurrection, there have been members of the congregation who have died. But, since the end hasn’t come, what is their fate? Are they lost?

That was the question Paul addressed in the verses from First Thessalonians that we read last Sunday (1 Thess. 4:13-18). From those verses the Christian teaching evolves that, on “the day of the Lord,” the righteous dead will rise from their graves to meet the coming Son of Man. (Because of that teaching, my 18th and 19th century ancestors in Newberry County, South Carolina, are buried with their feet facing east so that, when the Son of Man comes – which will happen at dawn! – they will be able to sit up in their graves to face their Savior!)

In the Sunday morning readings over the past few weeks – as the season of Pentecost comes to a close – we’ve been focused on the coming end. (Next week is Christ the King Sunday, the final Sunday in the church year.) Last week we read a portion from Amos’ prophecy of God’s burning anger. This morning, we read verses from Zephaniah that are even scarier (Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18), with his descriptions of utter destruction.

The theme has even come through in the gospel stories we’ve been reading. Last week it was the parable in Matthew of the five foolish and the five wise bridesmaids, warning: “Be ready for the end to come! If you are not prepared, you will find yourself shut out of the heavenly banquet, just as these five unprepared and hapless bridesmaids are shut out.” (See Matthew 25:1-13) And what about this week’s gospel reading? It ends with these feel-good words: “As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (See Matthew 25:14-30)

But when will this happen? When will the end come? That is the question the Thessalonians are asking Paul. Here’s what Paul writes, in reply to their question:

Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. In other words, we cannot say when the end will come. It will come as suddenly and unexpectedly as “a thief in the night.” It is no use to try to read “the times and the seasons.”

Then Paul begins making a distinction between those who should have no fear of the end – those who are of the light – as compared with those who are “of the night,” “of darkness.” It is those in darkness who will suffer when the day of the Lord comes. And they don’t even know it’s coming! Paul writes this: “When they say, ‘There is peace and security,’ then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape! But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness.”

Paul is telling the Thessalonian Jesus people not to waste their time trying to figure out when the end will come, and not to be afraid of it, for they are children of the light. Their task is to be confident and hopeful; alert; to be on the watch. Paul writes, So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him.

One way we could take off from here would be to try to identify who are those people out there – not us, certainly! – who are the people of darkness. Don’t we need to condemn them? Don’t we need to tell them what they’ve got coming to them?

Of course, that has been an emphasis in some strains of the Christian tradition – which, I would suggest, has led folks far away from the gospel of Jesus the Christ, and has even led to vicious acts of hatred in the name of Jesus.

I don’t think the gospel leads us in that direction.

But the question remains: When will the end come? And Paul’s answer pertains: that the end will be as sudden and as unexpected as “a thief in the night.” That will be true for each one of us. For some the end will with sudden shock, a sudden death. For others, it will be the diagnosis that will be entirely unexpected. There were medical people in the ICU who were afraid the end was coming for me, two years ago, during the worst day of my illness. Bill Wallis told me earlier this morning that he attended the funeral for a friend yesterday – who was told that he had cancer only three weeks ago!

And, in a very real sense, we deal with sudden endings all through life. The respiratory illness that damages a person’s lungs and leaves her unable to do what she once could do. The boss who comes in and says, “I’m sorry, but we’re eliminating the department. It has nothing to do with your job performance. We can offer two months of severance pay …”

You and I do not know our need for God, unless we are aware of the coming end; that we are not strong forever, that we do not live forever. Despite the messages we receive in our death-denying culture, Memento Mori. Remember that you will die.

I’m only naming reality! But in all of this, there is gospel. The good news is that we do not have to live in fear of the end. That is because of the good news, the gospel, of Jesus the Christ, of his cross and resurrection. The good news is our confidence and hope in the grace and forgiveness of God through Christ.

There is gospel in the verses we read, from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians. Some of these words are a basis for the Lutheran theology of baptismal grace: “For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him.” You and I are baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection, so that we may live in Christ.

We pray it in our Holy Communion Prayer of Thanksgiving: “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” We in the Church are living ”in-between!” We know what God has done in Christ, to win our salvation. We know that the end will come. We now live in-between.

And, so, knowing that the end will come, Paul tells us how we are to live, in the meantime. This is the last verse of the reading from First Thessalonians: “Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.”

That is what we are about, as a congregation. Knowing that God has included us in grace and salvation through our baptisms, and knowing that the end will come, we assemble here each Sunday morning, as Church, to be nourished in the grace and forgiveness of Word and bread and wine, and to encourage one another and build up each other.

We gather throughout the week, as Church, for meals, and for study groups, and for committee meetings, with Christ present among us, to encourage one another and build up each other.

We scatter to serve in the community, as Church, working for justice and righteousness, in partnership with other Christians, from other congregations, encouraging one another and building up each other.

It’s a good way to live and to serve, confident in the hope of the grace and forgiveness and salvation of baptism, encouraging one another and building up each other – and all the while praying: “Your kingdom come.”

In the name of God who creates us and saves us and makes us holy. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

“The Urgency Of The Coming End” November 9, 2008 Pentecost 26 Lectionary 32

(First read the text for this sermon: Amos 5:18-24)

Have you noticed that the closer we get to the end of the church year, the more difficult the passages get? Advent, the beginning of a new church year, is only three weeks away. During these last Sundays of the year, the appointed Bible readings become full of the urgency of the coming end. It’s scary stuff! The intent is to make clear how much we need God’s intervention, to save us.

When Advent comes, the tone will shift. Watch for that! The end will not have come. (Presumably!) The theme will still be our yearning for fulfillment. But the Sunday morning readings will be full of hope for fulfillment, of waiting and watching for God, of expectant joy.

That will be when Advent comes. This morning? The urgency of the coming end is presented, and their ain’t much joy that I can see!

I want to center on the Amos text, because it’s the one that gives me the most trouble. It’s an incredibly difficult reading.

In fact, that’s true for the entire book of the prophet Amos. Amos is the earliest of the prophetic books. It dates to around 760-750 B.C.E. Amos is the beginning of the tradition of prophetic warnings in the Hebrew Scriptures: that God’s people will be wiped out as a nation. They are not pleasing God, and so God is going to destroy the nation. (This tradition of prophecy continues through the books of Hosea, Micah, Zephaniah, most of Isaiah, and the early parts of Jeremiah and Ezekiel.)

The prophet Amos hears God speaking diatribes towards the people during a period in which they are affluent. That affluence in itself is not a problem! God’s anger comes through Amos because these people with plenty of material resources are not taking care of those who are poor. What makes God furious, in this morning’s passage, is that, even so, the people are still worshiping, as if they are righteous! Indeed, they are actually praying for God to intervene in judgment – “the day of the Lord” – as if this will be a good thing for them!

But Amos delivers a shocking warning:

Alas for you who desire the day of the Lord!
Why do you want the day of the Lord?
It is darkness, not light;
as if someone fled from a lion,
and was met by a bear;
or went into the house and rested a hand against the wall,
and was bitten by a snake.
Is not the day of the Lord darkness, not light,
and gloom with no brightness in it?

What terrifying images! Amos is speaking what he is hearing God to say: that God’s people are only giving lip service to God in their worship. But, in their lives, they are not acting in favor of righteousness – which means justice for the poor. In fact, Amos declares God to say this about their worship:

I hate, I despise your festivals,
and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.
Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings,
I will not accept them;
and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals
I will not look upon.
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
I will not listen to the melody of your harps.

Well. Nearly 2,800 years later, here you and I are, gathered in worship. What is it that we are praying for, each time we gather?

“In peace, let us pray to the Lord,” we pray in the Kyrie. We pray for “the peace from above, and for our salvation,” “for the peace of the whole world.” We pray for peace, each time asking, “Lord, have mercy.” “Help, save, comfort and defend us, gracious God,” we pray.

What is the intent of these words? To make us feel warm and fuzzy inside? As our liturgy continues, we are formed to know that what you and I are doing, at this time and in this place, is not for its own sake! Instead, worship grounds us in the Spirit’s power for our servanthood. The point of our worship is to nourish us once again with God’s grace and mercy, with God’s good news of salvation through Jesus the Christ – so that, set free, we can pursue righteousness and justice in the world, in the places where God has put us for ministry.

Our worship is intended to open us to the needs of the world! For instance, listen to the instructions of what to pray for, in the Prayers of Intercession, in Evangelical Lutheran Worship, on page 105. (Those are the prayers we conclude, “Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.)

Prayers reflect the wideness of God’s mercy for the whole world—
for the church universal, its ministry, and the mission of the gospel;
for the well-being of creation;
for peace and justice in the world, the nations and those in authority, the community;
for the poor, oppressed, sick, bereaved, lonely;
for all who suffer in body, mind, or spirit;
for the congregation, and for special concerns.
Additional prayers may come from the assembly.

(You contribute those additional prayers each Sunday morning, with words spoken out loud or in silence, when I’ve finished the prayers I’ve written.)

Is it enough just to pray “for the poor, oppressed, sick, bereaved, lonely?” That’s all that God’s people were doing in Amos’ community! They were praying. They were worshiping “properly.” They were observing the liturgical calendar! But Amos showers the people with words of God’s anger because the people were not acting to pursue righteousness and justice in the world. They were not enacting their worship prayers.

Consider the prayers in our worship that you and I are we called to enact. This morning, right after we present our offerings, we will ask the Spirit to “turn our hearts toward those who hunger in any way,…” In the post-communion prayer, we will pray, “By your Spirit strengthen us to serve all in need and to give ourselves away as bread for the hungry, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” The obvious dismissal to choose for the end of our worship this morning, keyed to the theme of the day will be: “Go in peace. Remember the poor.” To which you respond, “Thanks be to God.” Thanks be to God for giving us the work of advocating for righteousness and justice in the world God has created!

This is awfully radical stuff that you and I profess, each Sunday morning, in our worship! As Annie Dillard writes in one of her wonderful essays, when we take to heart the words that we say and sing and hear each Sunday morning, the ushers would be better to hand out crash helmets instead of bulletins – because of the way the Word of God upends us!

The people of God in Amos’ time were not disturbed in their complacency, by the words they were saying and singing and hearing each sabbath, during their worship. And so, the prophet Amos hears God saying:

I hate, I despise your festivals,
and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. …
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
I will not listen to the melody of your harps.

Let me ask you: how do you think the people of Israel reacted to Amos’ incendiary preaching?

In fact, we have a clear, contemporary example. Hundreds of thousands of people looked at the clips on You Tube. We saw TV commercials featuring the clips, this past Monday, in anti-Barack Obama ads. It is the despised Rev. Jeremiah Wright who is today’s version of Amos! In those video clips, he delivers the very same message as Amos. Don’t you bet that Amos’ affluent listeners reacted to him in exactly the same way as many affluent 21st century Americans vilified the Rev. Wright? But consider another thing. To those who are poor, words such as these, warning of God’s reversal, are good news!

These words from Amos are incendiary. We read them at this time of the liturgical year when we are reminded of the urgency of the coming end. In addition, the parable this morning, from Matthew (25:1-13), familiar to many of us, reminds us of this urgency in a vivid way.

So. For you and me, in our material comfort, is all of this frightening?

It is indeed scary stuff, this urgency of the coming end …
… unless you and I already know that we cannot save ourselves.

It’s scary stuff, this urgency of the coming end …
... unless you and I already know that our salvation is entirely by God’s grace.

It’s scary stuff, this urgency of the coming end …
… unless you are rooted in your baptisms, and so you live by these words in the liturgy of Confession and Forgiveness: “God who is rich in mercy, loved us even when we were dead in sin, and made us alive together with Christ. By grace you have been saved.”

Saved for what? So you and I can feel all warm and fuzzy inside?
No. We are saved to: “Go in peace. Remember the poor.” To do the work of the Kingdom. To pursue our vocations, the ministry God has given to us.

In the urgency of the coming end, we do the work God gives us to do. The work is described by Amos:

But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

In the name of the God of grace and compassion and justice; Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia

“Hoping And Looking For The Kingdom” All Saints’ Sunday November 2, 2008

(First, read the text for this sermon: Matthew 5:1-12)

They are familiar, and even beloved – these verses we call the Beatitudes (or the “blessed ares”), from the gospel of Matthew.

Now, let me ask: did you pay attention as I read them?

Then what is going on here? "Blessed are the poor in spirit?” "Blessed are those who mourn?” To be blessed means to receive God’s favor. How can those who are struggling so mightily be blessed?

Indeed, isn’t that exactly how we do not use the word “blessing?” When do you say, “What a blessing?” It’s when something wonderful happens, isn’t it? When you marry someone wonderful you may hear, “God has blessed you!” When a child is born, people may say, “What a blessing!” When we have enough money to live comfortably, we talk about how richly God has blessed us.

But that’s not what’s going on in these first verses of chapter five of the gospel of Matthew, not by a long shot. Those who are called blessed are suffering – or they’re engaging in actions that will lead to suffering!

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” When is there poverty in the human spirit? Isn’t it when a person is without resources or hope? It’s when a person feels subject to larger forces. Poverty of spirit is often found among those trapped in literal poverty, or in dead-end jobs, or by debilitating illness; those confined to a nursing home. Here’s the news: theirs is the kingdom of heaven!

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Perhaps we are all mourning. We mourn the deaths of loved ones. We mourn the end of independence as the result of disability. We mourn the end of a job, and the professional identity that came with that job. We mourn when a marriage ends. We mourn when a child goes off to college. It is painful, to work through grief. When will we be comforted?

"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” In Jesus’ meaning, talking to his followers, “meek” does not mean “wimp,” or “gentle,” or “doormat,” or “mild,” or “passive.” Someone who is “meek” is one with the immense courage to refuse to be violent in retaliation to violence. Instead of engaging in retribution, someone who is “meek” is living faithfully and expectantly – even when God seems slow to act.

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” These are folks who are suffering because God’s will is not being done on earth: when, for whatever reason, there is scarcity. For instance, someone who hungers and thirsts for righteousness expects our nation’s leaders to do something about the lack of health insurance among the poor and unemployed, and many of those who are employed. Do you ever notice all of those who have died in their 40s and 50s, in the obituary pages? How many of them have died because they didn’t have health insurance, and so they had no preventative care that would have given them years more of life? Just one example. When there is a lack of righteousness, there is a cost in human life.

In these words, these “blessed ares,” our Lord is hoping and looking for the dawning kingdom of God to be fulfilled. Here’s the news: when the kingdom comes – which we pray for each week, and even more often by those who practice daily prayer – these situations of distress will be reversed!

For those who are “poor in spirit,” for instance, there is no hope, unless God intervenes. “When God’s rule, now under way in Jesus, is completed, there will be no poor in spirit.” There will be reversal!

Of course, the most significant reversal is the defeat of death, by Jesus the Christ, on the cross and in the resurrection. That may be why the Beatitudes are appointed to be read each year on All Saints’ Sunday. Those who mourn will be comforted, in the kingdom. Grief is not the final condition. We hope and look for the coming of the kingdom, which is already dawning, in Jesus the Christ.

When the kingdom comes, the meek will inherit the earth because there will be no need for violence. We hope and look for the coming of the kingdom, which is already dawning, in Jesus the Christ.

The kingdom will be God’s reign of righteousness – and so those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled! We hope and look for the coming of the kingdom, which is already dawning, in Jesus the Christ.

How do we know that the kingdom is already dawning? It is because we can see this reversal, now – in the actions of people who are already acting as citizens of the kingdom. The remaining Beatitudes invite and challenge you and me to live in these ways.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” When you are merciful towards others, you are bringing God’s mercy. Mercy and forgiveness lead to transformation. It is life-giving!

Those who are merciful will receive mercy at the final judgment, this passage is telling us. But, in the meantime, the practice of forgiveness is a life-giving. And as this way of life is practiced, God’s kingdom is dawning among us!

"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” “The heart” means “the core or center of a person’s willing, thinking, knowing, deciding and doing.” Our hearts are with God, or they are with something other than God. When our hearts are in God, we see the dawning of the kingdom!

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” -- because they enact God’s merciful reign. Those who work to end conflict between individuals in a family or in a work group are signs of God’s dawning kingdom. Those who seek reconciliation with people who have offended them are signs of God’s dawning kingdom. Those who love their enemies are signs of God’s dawning kingdom.

"Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

When I was in Atlanta a month ago, I visited the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center for Nonviolence, and that was a moving experience for me. It’s an experience that has come back to me when reading these last verses of this morning’s passage: remembering those who insisted on nonviolence, even under the force of fire fighters’ water hoses used against them; remembering those who were stuffed into jail cells, who responded by singing hymns! “Rejoice and be glad!?” Can you imagine how terrifying it was for those demonstrators, those who were persecuted for righteousness’ sake – who responded to their terror by singing hymns in jail?

It’s pretty clear that living as citizens of the dawning kingdom of God is not for sissies! Even if few of us will be sent to jail as a consequence of the dawning kingdom of God; even in our less dramatic day-to-day lives, unless you and I are open to receiving the strength and yearning and patience and courage that comes to us from God the Holy Spirit, the Beatitudes are not good news!

However: for those who mean what they say when they pray, “your kingdom come”; for those who are hoping and looking for the kingdom; for those are already living counter-culturally, as citizens of the dawning kingdom, these verses are some of the most important in all of Scripture. What reversal is coming! What hope there is in that!

In the name of the God who creates us, who saves us, and who makes us holy. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia