Saturday, September 10, 2016

Sermon: Lost-ness



Sermon Preached on
September 10th and 11th, 2016
5:30pm and 8:00am | Proper 19, Year C
If found return to The Rev. Vicki K. Hesse

Oh, God, take our minds and think through them,
take our lips and speak through them,
take our hearts and set them on fire. Amen.[i]

Have you ever been lost? 
Of course, we all have at one point or another. 

I remember a time of being lost.
Having arrived by taxi
at my new apartment in Brussels,
met with my new boss and
gotten my company car,
I drove to the airport to pick up
my (ahem) lost luggage,
I faced the Belgian roads. 
All the signs helped me with the 20’ trip
– direction Airport. 

I got my things and headed back. 
Hey, where are the signs to say
“direction home”? 
Non existent. 
2½ hours I drove around Brussels.
Multi-lingual sign.
Confusing cobblestone streets.
Metric speed limits.   I was very lost. 
Until I stopped and
breathed into the cadence of the city. 
This experience that I reflect on,
26 years hence,
demonstrates not only
an outer lost-ness
but also inner lost-ness. 
And, because I still get
outwardly and inwardly lost sometimes,
the following poem by David Wagoner
holds deep meaning for me.[1]

Lost[2]
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. you must let it find you.
pause
Lost-ness arises in our gospel today:
the lost sheep, the lost coin. 
These two parables seem to distinguish
between the sinner and the righteous. 
Perhaps there is more …
I wonder:
can you be righteous and also be lost?[3]

Jesus begins with “which of you…”
Projecting onto the listeners
an assumption –
“of course you will act this way.”

In the first parable,
the shepherd is supposed to find
the lost sheep.  But think about it –
the shepherd leaves 99 at risk,
in the wilderness, with no protection,
just to find the one that was lost. 
Then when finding the one,
the shepherd rushes the whole flock home
to have a celebration. 
Normal?  Hardly. 

In the second parable,
the woman loses a tenth of her value. 
She turns on all the lights,
she sweeps and mops, cleans and digs in. 
Then when she finds the lost coin,
she has a party with food, drink and celebration
that costs as much as she recovered.
Normal? I don’t think so.

The outrageous celebration that follows
reflects the character of God.
The ridiculously expansive generosity and joy
springs from God’s own heart and
spills out into creation in response to being found. 
Being found - choosing Love, aka "repenting." 

But what is repentance?
As we teach in the baptismal preparation,
repentance, or “metanoia,”
means “transformative change of heart.”
A turning around, a change in perspective.
Or as we say in 12-step groups:
A willingness to become willing
to see things differently.

But can you be righteous and still lost?
Yes, of course.  Yes, I think we are at times. 

We may have our issues, our mistakes,
but for the most part
we don’t really identify with
the “filthy sinners.”
Most of us simply are trying
to live into our baptismal covenant. 
And we can still be lost.  How?
Maybe we were at the peak of our career,
just hitting stride,
having spend 7 ½ years in Europe
building the business
and we get laid off.
Maybe we are parents who
desperately want our children to succeed,
so we schedule or over-plan
our whole lives around
hockey games and dance recitals.
Maybe we have worked all our life,
have a substantial and solid pension plan,
but have little sense of meaning
since our retirement.
Maybe … maybe we seem to have it all together
and we are just plain lost.

Being “righteous” only goes so far
in the “who we are” department…
being “righteous” connects our identity
to “what we have done.” 

And so today’s good news,
reflected in these parables,
is that God grants us a found identity
and locates us in a place way beyond
what we have done,
are doing –
may someday do. 

Although we may feel lost,
this church, this sacred community,
is a place that we can
admit our lost-ness, and
confide our hopes and fears to God. 

For when you turn (or re-turn) to God,
just willing to become willing to see things differently,
God extravagantly and joyously celebrates
with all the angels in heaven and on earth. 

Dietrich Bonhoeffer,
shortly before his execution,
wrote a poem called “Who am I?”
The poem addresses
that existential question of lost-ness
that haunts our human condition:
Here is an excerpt[4]:

"Who am I?  …
… They [also] tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to winning.

Am I then really that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?

Restless and longing and sick,
like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, …
thirsting for words of kindness,
for neighborliness,
…powerlessly trembling
for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying,
at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.

Who am I? This or the Other?
Am I one person to-day and to-morrow another?
Am I both at once?
A hypocrite before others…
Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine,
Whoever I am, Thou Knowest, O God, I am thine."

My sisters and brothers,
These parables are
partially about sinners & righteous folks.  
partially about being lost and then found. 
These parables are totally
about the character of God –
a God so crazy in love with God’s children
that this God will do anything to find them. 

To find us.
And in finding, to outlandishly celebrate
with festive joy
any teensy, tiny turn or re-turn toward Love. 

Jesus asked, “which of you…”
Truthfully, none of us would. 

But God would.  God does, even now.
God is recklessly searching and finding us
in the depths of our righteous lost-ness. 

And in that celebratory finding,
pours out mercy, grace and love.
Forever and to the end of the ages.

Thanks be to God. 
Amen


[1] Inspired by Parker Palmer’s blog at OnBeing, cited here http://www.onbeing.org/blog/lost-in-the-wilds-of-your-life/6717 on September 8, 2016
[2] Poem “Lost” by David Wagoner, from Collected Poems 1956-1976
[3] Inspired by David Lose at Working Preacher, cited here: https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=2737 on September 8, 2016
[4] Offered by Author Rev. Mark F. Sturgess Sr. Pastor, Riviera UMC Redondo Beach, CA on his blog at http://www.marksturgess.org/blog/who-am-i-a-poem-by-d-bonhoeffer
and quoted in Douglas John Hall, Waiting for the Gospel: An Appeal to the Dispirited Remnants of Protestant "Establishment" (Eugene: Cascade Books, 2012), 94; translated by J.B. Leishman, and reproduced in G. Leibholz's 'Memoir' of Bonhoeffer, in Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship, 15.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Sermon: Fire and Stress


A Sermon preached in 
Christ Church, Grosse Pointe, Michigan
by The Reverend Vicki K. Hesse, Associate
The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 15, Year C)
14 August 2016

Listen here



Oh, God, take our minds and think through them, 
take our lips and speak through them, and
take our hearts and set them on fire. Amen.[i]

Raise your hand
if you have seen enough division
in recent news to last a lifetime?
I know! So why does Gospel text
seem to encourage more division?

As we unpack this dense text, we can find
– albeit somewhat elusive –
good news of God’s work in all realities. 
Situated as it is inside this teaching section of the Gospel, 
we hear Jesus set the stage
for his ministry’s outcome and
what his ministry means for his followers.[ii]

Let’s first talk about fire.
That fire that Jesus brings is a cleansing fire. 
That kind of fire reveals our own
inability to save ourselves. 

That kind fire Jesus announced,
heard in a historical context,
was meant to destroy the pagan religiosity –
the one the crowds followed. 
The crowds believed that
the more you prayed to the pagan gods,
the more you offered burnt sacrifices
the more pious you acted
Well, the more you guaranteed your salvation. 
The crowds believed it was all about
their own work, their own power.

That way of thinking, that religiosity, however,
moved people’s hearts away from God.
Jesus knew that they counted on
their own human strength.
So, with fire Jesus challenged this
human need for security 
(and institutions that promise security to people)
 instead of relying on the security found in God.
That’s the fire that Jesus
wished was already kindled. 
That’s the fire that Jesus kindles in baptism.

Often, Baptism is seen as joyous occasion –
a promise, a happy day. 
But for Jesus, his baptism meant sure death
 – on the cross –
so that we might have eternal life. 
Jesus’ death and resurrection brings us 
entry into the life of the church, with our baptism.
But that is just
the beginning of our spiritual journey.

That is why Fr. Drew
began experimenting last the week
by placing the baptismal font
at the entry of the church nave.

The font’s placement symbolized our entry into 
the church through the waters of baptism.  
Through baptism, we begin to stay tuned 
to the many ways that God calls us.
Our baptism means we are given grace
to rely on God’s promises and
to live out our callings. 
It’s not our work, but God’s work in us. 
In today’s text, Jesus reminds us
that baptismal work
is not always going to be pain-free. 
It is stressful to live into God’s call!

Sometimes, I think we ought to wrap
the baptismal font round and round
with “caution” tape. 
This would give a warning that lives begun 
as disciples will not be comfortable.
Because when we are baptized,
we take on the baptism that Jesus proclaims. 
His stress will cling to our bones
and course through our veins
until his baptism is completed.
And that changes everything, does it not? 
For in our baptism,
we cannot separate his life in us
from our life in him.

And so in the text, Jesus reminds the crowds – 
and you may already know this –
That living into the gospel will not always bring peace
 – at least not initially. 

In Jesus’ time and since then,
families were torn apart by a grace of Baptism,
this grace of God’s love (not human actions)
that guaranteed salvation.
Whether it is a newfound decision
to go to church, or
to take on a social justice cause, or
to reach out to others who are different from you, or
– the effect of the gospel can create division. 

and division is not the problem,
it is how we respond that stresses us.
But we know from our baptismal covenant 
how to respond to division:
with compassion,
with respect for others’ dignity,
and by seeking the face of Christ
with generosity, patience and forgiveness,
seeing or wondering how God is at work
in all sides, in all positions, in all realities.

With baptismal humility
we can respond to division,
realizing that only God has the whole truth.

A friend of mine use to say,
“the trouble with Christianity
is that you have to do it with other people.”
And Jesus emphasizes here that
no matter how hard we work toward unity,
it is God at work that makes us one. 

Any divisiveness and stress
is a signal to let go and let God. 
Our need for control
may be why Jesus brings up
the last point in this text,
talking about the weather.
We know the signs, but do we really know 
what is happening at a spiritual level?

The hypocrite label might apply
to those of us who believe in Jesus’ grace,
yet who continue
to depend on our own power
to earn a place in God’s kingdom.

This causes me to wonder about
our lives (mine, too) as baptized holy ones. 
Do we hear God’s call
through the ears of our heart?
Or do we
rest in our comfortable places?

Why do we
– as individuals, as community, as society
Why do we pretend we don’t see injustices around us 
(racial or economic, for example)
and not respond 
when our baptismal covenant calls us to strive for
justice and peace among all people,
and respect the dignity of every human being?
Why? I don’t know. Or maybe we do know.
Maybe we don’t want to be stressed.
Maybe living into our baptism creates division.
Maybe it’s just darn hard.

BUT!  out of this discomfort,
we can open a conversation about injustice
we can bring light to an issue
we can join others in the struggle.
That light may be just the gospel event
that changes everything –
for you and for those in the conversation. 

When we open a conversation
that brings division,
the crack in our hearts
allows the light to come in.
And that division allows
God’s slow work of love
To weave wholeness around a situation
like an invisible cloak to mind our life.[iii]

See, God claims us in our baptism
– not because we have been perfect Christians. 
God’s love transcends the divisions. 
God’s love encourages us to love recklessly.  
God’s love offers us grace
to risk living into our call. 

Fire? Stress?
These are the marks of following Jesus. 
“When we submit to the fire of our baptism,
we can trust the master welder
to forge us together
into a new kind of family, divided no more.”[iv]

Amen


[ii] Inspired by Erick J. Thompson “Commentary on Luke 12:49-56,” at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2951 on August 8, 2016
[iii] Inspired by John O’Donohue’s “Beannacht” cited at http://www.johnodonohue.com/beannacht-for-josie on August 13, 2016
[iv] Inspired by Kayla McClurg, The Peace of Division, cited at http://inwardoutward.org/the-story/ on August 13, 2016