Listen to this sermon HERE.
Sisters and brothers in Christ,
Today’s Gospel, today’s good news is for the tired believers. It’s for those of us who are a little bit, and especially for those of us who are very tired, and frightened about what the future holds. (If that’s not you, say a prayer of thanksgiving, and come stand with those who are tired.) This is a text for those who look around and see a world that has abandoned the teachings of Jesus and the prophets. The text I just read, said “you will be hated by all because of my name.” Maybe that’s true for Christians today in some circles, but mostly in our culture, I think the contemporary version of this is not that we will be hatred but really just treated with apathy or ignor-ance or misinterpretation, which in some ways is even worse. If you’re hated, then at least your argument has got traction, it’s getting under someone’s skin. But if you’re ignored, well then you don’t even have a place. Holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Prize recipient Elie Wiesel once said, “The opposite of love is not hate, it’s apathy.” [pause]
Do you ever feel totally insignificant or ignored? Without a place, a voice? Not even given the affirmation of a counter-argument. Just brushed off – perhaps by the culture, perhaps by our leaders and law makers, always by the weather, perhaps by the church, perhaps by your family or friends? “You will be irrelevant because of my name,” Jesus might say to us today. (If that’s not you...)
Today’s Gospel message is for those of us tired followers of Jesus…feeling unimportant and hopeless…like our work and our words are in vain, and the ship is going down. “Why bother? What’s the point? Who cares?”
This Gospel is for those of us who can feel ourselves being sucked into all that apathy, ignorance and misinterpretation flying all around us, like a typhoon.
It’s easy to just give ourselves to the gale-force, typhoon winds of this culture—“take care of yourself, it’s all about you, cover your butt, they are not your problem, protect yourself, security, security, personal security, draw your circle of family tight and neat, don’t worry about anyone else but you and yours…’cause the ship is going down”—watch for those subtexts in all the holiday ads that are already well on their way in our culture…these messages whipping by us like wind.
I grew up on the Gulf Coast, and I’ve been in a few typhoons (although we called them hurricanes).
I’ve got this image in my head of “Christians in a typhoon”, with this text:
Christians, like any creature, would seek cover during a typhoon. But then, as they wait for the storm to pass, they toil away together in a safe place—maybe a basement, maybe a community center or a church. They would gather together and work away… knitting, quilting, assembling packets, planning their strategy for reaching out very soon, assisting one another with words of comfort, bandages, hugs and long conversations. Small teams would even venture out into the storm to gather in those who could not find shelter. They would risk their lives for a stranger. And when they returned with a cold, wet, lost child or elderly adult, all would be greeted at the door and ushered in with blankets and bowls of tomato soup and plates of grilled cheese. And a cot with a pillow.
The typhoon pounds, and the Christian waits and works. And then a time would come for worship underground. They would gather in a dark place. They’d pray and sing. They’d read scripture by candlelight – they’d hardly have to look for passages about earlier believers riding out storms, lights shining in darkness, life overcoming death, peace in times of chaos...because they’d already know them by heart. And they’d hang on every word from that Holy Book. And then they’d eat – the body of life, the blood of forgiveness – and they would be filled…with all physical evidence to the contrary.
Today’s text is about hunkering down. Patiently working. Lovingly watching . Thoughtfully reaching. Faithfully hoping. [pause]
The Gospel of Luke is written by the same author as Acts. And commentaries reminded us that this text, especially the bits about the hardship that’s coming—the imprisonment, the ridicule, the persecution—is of course a foreshadowing of what happens in Acts.
One of these events in the book of Acts: there’s a story of Paul traveling by sea with his comrades and they are terrified because they’re caught in a storm...but Paul speaks to them:
“I urge you now to keep up your courage, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship…'Do not be afraid…God has granted safety to all those who are sailing with you.' So keep up your courage.” (Acts 27:22-25)
“The ship is going down, and you’ll be OK,” Jesus says to his disciples. Jesus is unimpressed by the temple, by the building, by the ship (nave). Bricks and stones and fancy cargo, will all go down. [pause] But you’ll be OK. In one sentence, Jesus says, “you will be betrayed and some even put to death,” and in the very next, “but not a hair on year head will perish.” Malachi: “The sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.” Psalmist: “Sorrow spends the night, but...”
This is a text about hunkering down, patiently enduring. “By your endurance you will gain your [souls],” Jesus says. psuche—mind, sanity, calmness. Our Buddhist sisters and brothers teach: “Chop wood, carry water.” Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians: “Do not weary in doing what is right.” Hunker down: chop wood, carry water, wash, bake, stitch, weed. One of the great quotes attributed to Martin Luther: “If I knew the world would end tomorrow, I’d plant an apple tree today.” The ELCA’s Malaria Campaign goes on (not to pat ourselves on the back too much, but it’s a great illustration!)...talk about patiently enduring, planting an apple tree in the face of the plague of malaria in sub-Saharan Africa. Lutherans are saying, “We’re going to try to wipe it out.”
Hunkering down, sisters and brothers in Christ, patiently doing what is right. And we do it, not alone, we endure with all tangible evidence to the contrary, we endure in the glorious company of all the saints—who we celebrated a few weeks ago and each time we gather—we endure together and we endure with Christ. “My peace be with you,” Jesus says, “my peace I leave you—my peace will never leave you.” AMEN.
Blessing of travelers: O God, our beginning and our end, you kept Abraham and Sarah in safety throughout the days of their pilgrimage, you led the children of Israel through the midst of the sea, and by a star you led the magi to the infant Jesus. Protect and guide Larry and Stephanie (Kimberly, Eric, Ty, Sydney, Erica, Ian, Kade and Jillian) now as they set out to travel. Make their ways safe and their homecomings joyful, and bring us all at last to our heavenly home, where you dwell in glory with our Lord Jesus Christ and the life-giving Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
This week we journeyed through the past year, the Year of Luke, with readings, hymns and these notes...
