Sermon Christ the King Yr B
Christ the King Sunday Yr B, 22/11/2009
Ps 132:1-12
Rev. Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson
Pastor of Grace Lutheran Church, &
Chaplain of The Good Samaritan Society’s
South Ridge Village, Medicine Hat, Alberta
“The most faithful King”
The story is told of Prince Philip who was visiting an Australian university, where he was introduced to a couple identified as “Mr and Dr Robinson.” The husband explained, “My wife is a doctor of philosophy. She is much more important than I.” Prince Philip sympathetically replied, “Ah, yes. We have that trouble in our family, too.”
In today’s first lesson we learn of King David’s troubles too. The psalm also speaks about it—it begins with a prayer likely prayed by David’s son, Solomon at the time of the dedication of the temple. In the opening verse, the psalmist prays: “O LORD, remember in David’s favour all the hardships he endured.” The reference to hardships here most likely refers to his troubles over wanting a permanent home for the ark of the covenant. Even though David tried his best to build a temple for the ark, the LORD did not let him—he was upstaged by his son Solomon, who accomplished that building project.
The psalm takes a single incident out of the past, the history of the ark of the covenant, and reminisces over it: “Remember how we got the news in Ephrathah—which is another name of Bethlehem, David’s city—learned all about it at Jaar Meadows? This was Kiriath-jearim, where the ark had been kept from Samuel’s time until David became king in Jerusalem. We shouted, ‘Let’s go to the shrine dedication! Let’s worship at God’s own footstool!’ Up, GOD, enjoy your new place of quiet repose, you and your mighty covenant ark.”
The ark of the covenant was a box approximately forty-five inches long, twenty-seven inches broad and twenty-seven inches deep, constructed of wood and covered with gold. Its lid of solid gold was called the mercy seat. Two cherubim, angel-like figures at either end, framed the space around the central mercy seat from which God’s word was heard. It had been made under the supervision of Moses (Ex 25:10-22) and was a symbol of the presence of God among his people. The ark had accompanied Israel from Sinai, through the wilderness wanderings, and had been kept at Shiloh from the time of the conquest. In a battle the ark had been captured by the enemy Philistines and was a trophy of war displayed in the Philistine cities until it became a problem to them (the story is told in 1 Samuel 4-7) and was returned to Israel, to the village of Kiriath-jearim (7:1-2), where it rested until David came to get it and place it in honour in Jerusalem, where it later became enshrined in Solomon’s temple.1 However, the ark, even though it was a symbol of God’s presence among the Israelites, was not God himself. The Israelites had to learn the hard way that you cannot put God in a box; nor can you limit God’s presence to one particular place on earth. God is God over heaven and earth. God was not pleased with the Israelites, Solomon’s temple was destroyed, the Israelites were taken into exile, and the ark then disappeared into the mists of history.
As we continue with our psalm, there is a theme in verses eleven and twelve of a covenant that God had made with David: “The LORD swore to David a sure oath from which he will not turn back; “One of the sons of your body I will set on your throne.” Sure enough God kept that covenant, by allowing Solomon to ascend to the throne, and allowing him to build the Jerusalem temple. In many respects, Solomon’s success and fame succeeded that of David’s. However, there is a second part to God’s covenant, which is spelled out in verse twelve. In verse twelve, the covenant becomes a conditional one—which means that if David’s dynasty was to continue and be blessed by the LORD, then there was a certain duty, a certain condition that the kings would have to honour. God places the following condition on the covenant: “If your sons keep my covenant and my decrees that I shall teach them, their sons also, forevermore, shall sit on your throne.” Well, we all know what happened with that conditional covenant. The Davidic dynasty did not last. David’s offspring, including Solomon, did not keep God’s covenant and decrees—all of them fell away from the ways of the LORD, into very serious sins. King after king who succeeded David committed brutal acts of sin. The history of the Davidic dynasty is full of evil plots and power-plays; much violence and blood was shed; like so many other royal dynasties of the world. I’m sure all of this dirty politicking must have broken God’s heart. Here were the makings of a holy people, blessed by God to rule under a holy king, in a holy place—Jerusalem. Yet, Jerusalem, which was supposed to be “the” model city of peace for the rest of the world, became the exact opposite. Jerusalem, the dwelling place of God, over the centuries has been anything but a city of peace. The pages of Jerusalem’s history are filled with conflicts, strife, destruction, divisions, sufferings, and the shedding of much blood. So, no, this conditional covenant of a Davidic dynasty blessed by God “forevermore” has not been fulfilled.
Unless, of course, we look at this covenant from a different perspective—namely, from the perspective of another offspring from David’s lineage, born to a humble couple named Mary and Joseph, Jesus. If we look at the life, teachings and miracles of Jesus; and if we focus on the greater meaning of Jesus’ suffering, death and resurrection; then we Christians can say and believe that this conditional covenant made centuries ago in today’s psalm has been kept by Jesus.
Jesus was a King, yet he was a different sort of King. He was born without sin. As the God-Man, without sin, he was able to keep perfectly all of the conditions and decrees of God’s covenant. Moreover, we believe that he came to establish a new covenant. As King of kings and LORD of lords, King Jesus established an eternal covenant for all who believe in him as God’s Messiah. He accomplished this by shedding his innocent blood—outside the city gates of Jerusalem on Golgotha. His innocent blood was shed not out of a sinful lust for selfish, political power and earthly glory. NO. Rather, it was shed out of sacrificial love for all humankind, including you and me; in order that we may have forgiveness of sin and eternal life. So, come, King Christ and live among us today as we partake of your eternal covenant of love now through means of bread and wine. Amen.
1 Cited from: Eugene Peterson, A Long Obedience In The Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society (Downers Grove, IL: Inter Varsity Press, 2000), p. 164.
Sermon 24 Pentecost Yr B
24 Pentecost Yr B, 15/11/2009
Mk 13:1-8
Rev. Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson
Pastor of Grace Lutheran Church, &
Chaplain of The Good Samaritan Society’s
South Ridge Village, Medicine Hat, Alberta
“Jesus and our future”
How good are you at predicting the future? I’m not talking here about the obvious events like you predicting that tomorrow, most likely God willing, you’ll get out of bed in the morning; you’ll get dressed and eat breakfast. No, not events like that. Rather, I’m talking about the future that may seem certain and secure; however what most folks expect to happen does not transpire. Instead the opposite occurs.
History is full of such predictions. Listen to the following examples: Right here in Medicine Hat, John Palliser, in 1863, thought this part of the world was a barren wasteland. However, he was wrong, we’ve thrived thanks to our natural gas, grazing lands, and grain and vegetable crops, and now our future looks promising because of the sunlight and wind in this part of Canada, solar energy is becoming more popular, as is wind energy.
Perhaps some of you may also remember the following predictions: Thomas Watson, the chair of IBM in 1943 said: “I think there is a world market for maybe five computers.” Decca Records, rejecting a request for a recording contract with a group called the Beatles in 1962, said: “We don’t like their sound. Groups of guitars are on the way out.”1 Today we all know what happened to computers and the Beatles. In both cases those making the predictions were dead wrong.
In a reverse manner, from history past there were signs of the times that seemed so certain and secure, but turned out to be tragic and destructive.
Only 12 kilometres south of the popular Taizé monastic community in France, is the town of Cluny. Cluny was a thriving monastic centre from about the tenth to the twelfth centuries, with around ten thousand monks. The cathedral at Cluny was most likely the largest edifice of Christendom until St Peter’s Basilica was built in Rome five centuries later. Today no cathedral stands at Cluny. During the French Revolution in the 1790s, the cathedral was destroyed by the battalions of the poor and the stones were sold to finance the revolution.
In today’s gospel, Jesus has been teaching in the Jerusalem temple, and now he and his disciples are leaving that place. Standing outside the temple and looking at it, a disciple was impressed with the magnificent structure; admiring the large stones and buildings. Quite likely the disciples from the backwaters of Galilee had never seen the temple before. For them as for many Jewish people it was a symbol and sign of God’s power. The temple reminded them of God’s security and protection, a holy place of refuge. A disciple in amazement said: “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings.” The disciple was correct; the architecture was grand and impressive. Would such a solid edifice not last forever?
Jesus, answers the disciple in a shocking way, saying: “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” Wow! What a surprising prediction! Who would have expected such an answer? According to one commentator, the large stones were about thirty-seven and one-half feet long, eighteen feet wide, and twelve feet thick! Now that’s a huge rock! Think of all those rocks that size together to make a huge structure. What could be more solid and secure and long-lasting than such an architectural masterpiece? Yet Jesus says, even such a structure as this is not going to remain secure and last forever. In predicting the temple’s destruction, Jesus is, in effect, saying: “Do not be so mesmerized by these large stones and buildings. Do not place all of your security in them. Rather, your true security is in me and the heavenly Father alone—not in sacred places, no matter how large and secure they are built. Your ultimate, eternal security is in God alone.”
As they walk away from the temple and reach the Mount of Olives, the disciples are still puzzled and curious about the future, and so they ask Jesus: “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” Jesus answers at first in a very sobering way, after which he gives them a seed of hope.
His sobering part of the answer is a warning; he begins with the word “Beware.” The word “beware,” to this day, is a warning, it reminds us to keep alert, observant; keep our guard up since certain dangers may be coming our way. Jesus then tells his disciples that they and many other folks shall in the future face the danger of being led astray by many false messiahs who come in Jesus’ name. He says to them and us that there will be snake oil smooth pretenders out there ready to lead you into a danger zone that will destroy you. Jesus warns the disciples and us that they and we could be at risk. He says, such charlatans shall say: “‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray.” In other words, they shall succeed. We know that Jesus’ prediction was right, as over the years and even today there have been many false sectarian leaders and cult figures who have brainwashed vulnerable people, and led many folks to commit soul-destructive acts, often ending with tragic deaths.
Jesus goes on to say that there will also be plenty of wars and rumours of wars, kingdoms and nations fighting with each other as well as so-called “natural disasters” like earthquakes and famines. All of these predictions, of course, have come true. In every century since Jesus predicted such tragic events, there have been plenty of wars and no shortage of “natural disasters,” as our news broadcasts have focussed on the Afghanistan war and the earthquakes and tsunamis in places like Samoa and Indonesia recently. All of these predictions of Jesus have come true and continue to occur. Is this the end? Shall Jesus come again and rescue us from all of these sufferings and disasters?
For a little comic relief, listen to the following joke, it makes an important point: A red Porsche convertible pulled up to the red light. Its vanity license plate had the letters J C on it, the owner’s initials. Two nuns were in the next lane and one of them, noticing the vanity plate, said, “I knew he was coming back, but I didn’t know it would be in a Porsche!” The joke drives home (pun intended) the point that people can easily misunderstand and misinterpret the so-called “signs of the end,” and wrongly believe that Jesus is here today, or coming at a specific time and place. No, Jesus says all of these signs do not tell you the end has arrived.
Rather, Jesus leaves his disciples and us with a final answer of hope. The hope is a seed of better things to come. He tells his disciples and us: “This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.” The last word in Jesus’ sentence here, “birthpangs,” is the clue to our future hope. Another way of stating Jesus’ last sentence here is: “These things are like the first pains of childbirth.” Here we have a comparison of a woman giving birth and going through all the pain of delivering her child—Jesus says such pain is like what we experience from the sufferings in this world due to false messiahs, and the so-called “natural disasters.” However, we all know—and I suggest that women who have given birth to a child know this better than men—that the pains during giving birth are a sign of hope because from the pain a baby is born. The new baby is a sign of hope. We are reminded that the birth pains were worth it because they resulted in this wonderful, new human being. So, too, all of the sufferings that we have to endure lead to the new age—they usher in the kingdom of God, which one day shall come in all of it fullness. Until then, we place all of our trust and faith, and hope in God alone who is our only solid and secure Rock and Temple. Amen.
1 Cited from: David E. Leininger, Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit: Series VI Cycle B (Lima, OH: CSS Publishing Co., Inc., 2008), p. 276.
Sermon 23 Pentecost Yr B
23 Pentecost Yr B, 8/11/2009
Mk 12:38-40
Rev. Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson
Pastor of Grace Lutheran Church, &
Chaplain of The Good Samaritan Society’s
South Ridge Village, Medicine Hat, Alberta
“Jesus and the scribes”
Bragging may not bring happiness, but did you ever see a person, having caught a large fish, go home through an alley? The story is told about a man who was reading the schedule for his community’s upcoming meetings. He snorted about one program, “He’s going to talk to us about his naval experiences? Poppycock! The nearest he ever came to a naval experience was when his basement flooded and his rowing machine sank.” As that wise person, Anonymous once said: “Pride is the only disease that makes everyone sick but the one who has it.”
In today’s gospel, which takes place inside the Jerusalem temple, Jesus is teaching, and has a captive audience. Right there, in the place of religious power, Jesus lowers the boom so-to-speak on the religious scribes, who may also have functioned as priests in the temple; at least Ezra had that duel role according to Nehemiah 8:9 after the return home to Judah from Babylonian exile. At any rate, Jesus does not hold back on his criticism and judgement of the scribes. He criticizes and judges them on a few counts.
In contemporary, colourful language, Eugene Peterson in The Message puts it like this: “He continued teaching. “Watch out for the religion scholars. They love to walk around in academic gowns, preening in the radiance of public flattery, basking in prominent positions, sitting at the head table at every church function. And all the time they are exploiting the weak and helpless. The longer their prayers, the worse they get. But they’ll pay for it in the end.”
As you can see from this version of our gospel, Jesus comes across as one who is stirring the pot against the religious establishment of his day. Here he does seem to be “a rabble rowser.” The picture Mark gives us is one of a heightening drama; with a growing conflict and collision course between Jesus and the religious establishment. So, let’s unpack a little each of the criticisms and judgements that Jesus makes against the scribes.
In verse 38, Jesus starts off by saying: “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes.” As Peterson suggests, these folks could be the professor types or cutting closer to the bone for me, us clergy. Yes, professors and clergy often do like to be seen in our long robes. What’s wrong with that? Is not a robe better than showing off that eight-hundred or thousand dollar suit that the televangelists love to wear? Is not a robe less ostentatious than other distracting or inappropriate clothing? Even in the New Testament, there are positive references to robes—especially for the faithful who have gone to their eternal reward. So what’s wrong with wearing a long robe? Well, here’s why, according to Dr. William Barclay:
A long robe which swept the ground was the sign of a notable. It was the kind of robe in which no one could either hurry or work, and was the sign of the leisured (person) of honour. It may be that the phrase has another meaning. In obedience to Numbers 15:38 the Jews wore tassels at the edge of their outer robe. These tassels were to remind them that they were the people of God. Quite possibly these legal experts wore outsize tassels for special prominence (cf. Matthew 23:5). At all events they liked to dress in such a way that it drew attention to themselves and to the honour they enjoyed.1 In contrast, less ostentatious scribes only wore their long robes during prayer and while they were working at their scribal duties. There is a time and place for all things. If I were to wear my robe every day in public, I’m sure I’d get some weird looks and draw plenty of attention to myself. So, too, on special occasions like university graduation ceremonies; it is appropriate to wear a robe. If you didn’t wear a robe on such an occasion, you would stand out like a sore thumb. So here Jesus is criticizing and judging not all scribes. Rather, he’s referring to the pretentious group of scribes who love to draw attention to themselves by wearing their robes in inappropriate circumstances.
The next criticism and judgement Jesus raises is that the scribes like: “to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces.” In other words, they liked to be praised in public—to have an air of pretentiousness, to exude an official, formal image. On the other hand, do we not all desire some respect in the public eye? Don’t we all want a respectable reputation among the general public? Are there not far too many charlatans out there fleecing folks with their shady business deals, their “get rich quick” schemes, and snake oil religion? Recently in news we’ve heard of how a group of Jewish rabbis swindled folks like Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel. Here in Canada, the Roman Catholic Church was shocked to learn that one of their bishops was caught with child pornography on his laptop computer. So what’s wrong with wanting respect among the general public?
What’s wrong with being greeted with respect in the marketplaces was that at the time of Jesus, it was customary for a superior person to be greeted first by an inferior person—only after such a greeting would the superior person respond. In other words, such scribes who demanded to be greeted first were again acting pretentiously. Scribes of this ilk were saying by this behaviour: “Know your place; I’m better than you. I’m of noble stock, you’re a mere commoner.” In stark contrast to this attitude and behaviour Jesus’ attitude and behaviour epitomised humility. He befriended the ordinary folk of his day. In fact, he went further than anyone at the time by regarding the social and religious outcasts as sons and daughters of God, created in God’s image, like all other people. He came not to be served, but to serve folks—especially the lost, last and least.
In verse 39, Jesus continues his criticism and judgement of the scribes by saying they like: “to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honour at banquets.” In defence of the best synagogue seats, maybe there is a rationale. For example, would it not be legitimate to have a best seat in the synagogue if a scribe were elderly and couldn’t see or hear very well? Perhaps the best front-row-seats would help them with such impairments in mind. On the other hand, Jesus’ words of indictment here seem to mean the scribes have a self-centred preoccupation with externals—their public image and identity, that’s what really mattered to them. “Hey, look at me, I’m important. See how great I art! I’m the centre of attention.” Again, in stark contrast, Jesus teaches no, such an attitude and behaviour is wrong. What is truly important; what really counts according to Jesus is what is inside more than externals. What is in our heart, that is what counts the most according to Jesus. Jesus’ teaching here is also affirmed by authentic Judaism. You remember the words of Psalm 51, which epitomise this, the psalmist prays: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” And a few verses later: “The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”
In his final indictment of the scribes, Jesus accuses them of abusing their religion, saying: “They devour widows’ houses.” Now this is a pretty serious charge, preying on society’s most vulnerable, the widows. While they rob widows, they have a false veneer of piety and: “for the sake of appearance say long prayers.” Does this mean that all prayers should be kept short? I think not, if we are to keep Paul’s admonition to “pray without ceasing.” Long prayers in today’s gospel seem to have the intention of duping people—you know, “the wolf in sheep’s clothing” syndrome. The scribes are trying to impress others for the sake of show by the long prayers. Their prayers are not out of genuine love and concern for their neighbour.
Here again Jesus’ own life and ministry is a stark contrast to such proud, self-absorbed scribes. The gospels tell us that Jesus had mercy on the most vulnerable folks like widows. In verses 41 to 44 of our gospel he praises the unnamed widow for giving what little she had to the temple treasury, saying that she had given all she had. On another occasion, Jesus healed the son of a widow, knowing that she would be left destitute if she lost her son. So, in Christ’s eyes, widows were loved and cared for and highly regarded. As for prayers, the gospels tell us that Jesus would get up early in the morning and go to a quiet place away from people, and pray alone there. So prayers were not a show that Jesus put on to impress others. Rather, prayers were from Christ’s heart and soul, poured out in love to his heavenly Father for the sake of you and me and the whole world.
May we continue to learn from Christ’s humility, love for others, and service of others. May we learn from Jesus that life and faith is not lording it over others and placing ourselves on centre stage. Rather, according to Jesus, life and faith is giving of ourselves without asking what’s in it for us or how we can advance ourselves to a higher status. In the words of Jesus elsewhere in the gospels, life and faith consists of denying self, taking up our cross, and following Jesus. Amen.
1 Wm. Barclay, The Gospel Of Mark (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1975), pp. 299-300.
Elie Wiesel on forgiveness
Elie Wiesel on Forgiveness, just before his 80th birthday at a Jewish Values Network Fundraiser on 10/05/2008 at the Steinhardt Estate in NY.
Elie Wiesel is one of the 3 most important people in the world today, along with Nelson Mandela, and Dalai Lama, according to Rabbi Shumuley Boteach.
I always appreciate the message of Elie Wiesel; he is a person of exceptional depth and authenticity. Here are a few brief notes I jotted down while watching this video.
We ask God to forgive us. But God needs some of us to forgive him. I believe in questions more than answers. As a child he was never asked by his mother: “Did you have a good answer in school today?” Rather, she asked me, “Did you have a good question today in school?” In our tradition, what we try to show is a question, and questing. A philosopher once said: “Always seek truth, but beware of the one who found it.” Death is the question of everything—why did God create everything so it will die? Why create us humans because we shall die? Even though we die, we have to live, and therefore we need to do something with our lives.
Charity saves you from dying while you are alive. Charity is compassion for those who need you—they have no basic necessities, of even no hope. Our purpose is to give them these things; otherwise we’re not fully human.
Importance of asking for forgiveness from the person that one has hurt/sinned against. How long do we go back? Should we Jews have to forgive the Egyptians for the pyramids we built? Children of assassins and not assassins of children—problem of collective guilt, Wiesel does not believe in collective guilt. Each person must forgive the person who sinned against them directly; no one else can do that.
Jewish values, concepts, philosophies: Mine is the more Jewish is a Jew, the more universal one is. I cannot believe the Jewish person, or Jewish religion is superior to any other person or religion. I don’t like fanatics who tell me I don’t have the right to believe what I believe.
The Dalai Lama asked Wiesel to teach him the art of survival because the former said his people will need to learn it as it will likely be some time before they gain any kind of independence or autonomy for their homeland of Tibet and the exiles shall be safe to return. We can teach the non-Jew, the Muslim, Christian, and others if we live authentic Jewish lives.
Question time: I believe in memory. I don’t believe in hatred, anger yes. Memory, learn from it, say: “I don’t want my past to become someone else’s future.”
Question: Is Wiesel optimistic about the Jewish future? Yes, he said. Memory transcends future. Never before now have there been so many courses, books, etc., on the Holocaust. So I am optimistic about our people, that we shall survive.
Question of Jewish view of forgiveness, when do you forgive? Jewish law requires an individual to forgive their perpetrator, only if the latter asks for it. Wiesel told the story of a German government leader—I think it was Chancellor Kohl—who, after listening to Wiesel’s view on forgiveness, travelled to Israel and publicly in the Knesset asked for forgiveness from the Jewish people.
May God continue to grant health and blessings to his faithful servant, Elie Wiesel.
Sermon All Saints Sunday Yr B
All Saints Sunday Yr B, 1/11/2009
Isa 25:6-9
Rev. Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson
Pastor of Grace Lutheran Church, &
Chaplain of The Good Samaritan Society’s
South Ridge Village, Medicine Hat, Alberta
“God’s saving acts”
The story is told of two evil brothers. They were rich and used their money to keep their ways from the public eye. They even attended the same church, and looked to be perfect Christians.
Then their pastor retired, and a new one was hired. Not only could he see right through the brothers’ deception, but he also spoke well and true, and the church started to build a new assembly. All of a sudden, one of the brothers died. The remaining brother sought out the new pastor the day before the funeral and handed him a check for the amount needed to finish paying for the new building.
“I have only one condition,” he said. “At his funeral, you must say my brother was a saint.” The pastor gave his word, and deposited the check.
The next day, at the funeral, the pastor did not hold back. “He was an evil man,” he said. “He cheated on his wife and abused his family.” After going on in this vein for a small time, he concluded with, “But compared to his brother, he was a saint.”1
The story, although humorous, raises the following question on this All Saints Sunday: Who is a saint? Is a saint one who does not sin? Are saints reserved for such elitist people who think they are perfect? Do you have to undergo some “burning bush” or “Damascus road” encounter with God before you qualify as a saint? Or perhaps you have to work miracles like making the blind see and the lame walk to be a saint? Maybe you have to be a prophet and predict the future to be a saint? Or do you have to be a televangelist and accumulate over one million dollars a year income to qualify as a saint?
Who is a saint anyways? Well, it seems Christians have trouble agreeing on who qualifies as a saint. A number of years ago, a bishop of Sweden said, “Saints are those who make it easier to believe in God.” Not a bad definition, yet I’m not completely convinced, since that seems to suggest there is an elitist group of folks who tower above the rest of us. On the other hand, the truth of the matter is that even those who make it easier to believe in God have their imperfections and shortcomings. You, me, all of us have feet of clay. So I’ll go for another definition of a saint. Who is a saint? The right answer for me is: A forgiven sinner. We Lutherans historically have preferred this answer, as we believe that we are simul justus et peccator—translated into English that means we are simultaneously justified and sinful. At one and the same time we are sinners and saints.
You don’t need to do anything; you cannot do a thing to save yourself—only God can do that. Yet, paradoxically, we are commanded to do good works. However, not because they can make one iota of a difference in God’s eyes to get on the good side of God and he’ll reward us eternally for them. NO WAY! Rather, we do good works because they are the result of—and our response to— what God has done for us through Jesus Christ. You see, we take very seriously the words of Jesus in John’s Gospel: “apart from me you can do nothing.” (Jn 15:5) We also take very seriously the words in 1 John 4:19: “We love, because he (God) first loved us.” So, every good work we are able to do is possible because God first acted to take the initiative, to love and save us first.
Speaking of God’s saving love and action; we have a beautiful picture of this in today’s passage from Isaiah. The metaphors grab our attention. Isaiah gives us a picture here of the LORD playing host on Mount Zion at a future banquet feast. He is host “for all peoples” whom he loves. God’s menu shall not consist of ordinary fare either. Rather, on the menu shall be quite exquisite food and drink: “a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.” Notice too that the Central Actor is the LORD; he’s the one who shall prepare and serve this banquet feast.
The next verse continues with God as the Central Actor. Now the metaphors change though. In verse seven we have the Warrior God who “will destroy…the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations.” The shroud and sheet that the prophet is referring to here is death, which is the consequence of sin in the world. In the last segment of this verse, Isaiah gives us yet another picture that parallels the previous verse. However this time, it’s God who is doing the eating. Did you notice the strange fare? Isaiah tells us that the LORD “will swallow up death forever.” Now that doesn’t sound very appetizing to me—however, who am I to tell God what to eat?! Why would Isaiah describe God’s destruction of death by making a banquet feast for God out of it? Well, maybe it’s not so strange—at least to a Jewish audience.
The rabbis in their general and humorous playfulness pictured “the coming age” under many images, and one of them was the delightful image of the huge banquet in which Messiah would gather together with his people. As a matter of fact in some of these playful rabbinic exercises one had even settled the menu for the messianic banquet. One was going to feed on Leviathan, thereby signifying the destruction of evil at the same time as there would be the great and glorious banquet.2 So it is here with Isaiah the prophet who sees a future bursting with hope and joy at God the Warrior’s victory over and destruction of death. Notice that Isaiah tells us death will not come back to haunt us at a later date. NO! The LORD “will swallow up death FOREVER! What a victory that shall be—one in which all of our longings of hope and joy shall be fulfilled.
God doesn’t stop there though. Listen, there’s more here of God the Central Actor. In verse eight, Isaiah changes the metaphor on us again. Now the LORD is like a gentle Father. The prophet tells us there will be no more sadness, since God “will wipe away the tears from all faces.” Usually tears are also connected with sadness and death as well as suffering. In this future reign of God, all of that shall be wiped away by our LORD. Now that’s something to look forward to with hope and joy. Isaiah goes on to say in verse nine that God will continue to act, how? He says, “the disgrace of his people God will take away from all the earth.” Why disgrace? Well disgrace comes from our sinful state, we do things that we regret later when we look back on those foolish, sinful acts. However, what’s done is done, and can disgrace us; we can’t undo what we did, even though we desperately wish that we could. We cannot always reverse the disgrace we bring upon ourselves. We need the LORD’s help. Isaiah promises that God will help us by taking away our disgrace from all the earth. After it has been taken away, then we can come closer to our LORD and live more in peace and harmony with him as well as with each other.
The closing verse nine of our passage then focuses on the response of God’s people, the saints who shall be the recipients of all of these acts of God. Here Isaiah records the saints giving God the glory and worship and honour for what he has done: “It will be said on that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us. This is the LORD for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.” So the response of God’s saints to the saving acts of God is twofold here: waiting for the LORD and worshipping him in gladness by rejoicing in his salvation.
On this All Saints Sunday, we continue to wait for the LORD as we long for that time when we shall share more completely in the communion of saints in heaven. Yet, we also worship God in gladness by rejoicing in his salvation thanks to what Jesus Christ has accomplished for us by giving us a Holy Meal to bask in his Presence among us and receive “a foretaste of the feast to come,” the heavenly banquet which has no end. Amen.
1 Cited from: David E. Leininger, Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit: Series VI Cycle B (Lima, OH: CSS Publishing Co., Inc., 2008), pp. 265-266.
2 Cited from: Krister Stendahl, Meanings: The Bible as Document and as Guide (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984), p. 185.
A prayer concerning the H1N1 influenza
A prayer concerning the H1N1 influenza outbreak
Jesus our Great Physician—you know the exacerbating fears and anxieties, stresses and strains of patients, families, and frontline healthcare workers in our nation and every other nation afflicted with the H1N1 outbreak. We remember those who have already perished from H1N1 and pray for the families who mourn them. Surround us all with your protecting, healing presence. Grace all governments and healthcare workers with strength and wisdom as well as discipline tempered with compassion to know and do what is right to minimize the destructive power of H1N1. Grant us the courage and hope to trust that you are present even through our smallest of thoughts, words and actions done in the unselfish service of others. In your name. Amen.
A preacher to preachers
A preacher to preachers
Those of us who preach, more or less weekly, are also in need of inspiration from, if you will, a preacher to preachers. One such mentor whom I appreciate is Frederick Buechner. Here are a few words of wisdom from Buechner on the power and inspiration of words, sermons and preaching.
“Sermons are love letters.”
A sobering question for me as a preacher is: How much love do I put into sermons as I prepare and deliver them? I’m sure there’s always room from improvement, speaking for myself. And do parishioners hear and receive sermons as love letters? If they do, then there shall be a whole lot of understanding and harmony in the parish, and they will be inspired and encouraged.
“Language itself is revelatory and gives life.”
If that’s true, then we preachers shall always be searching, with the Holy Spirit’s guidance, to find the right words and transform them into God’s Word for his people via the sermon.
Buechner’s sermons contain what’s been referred to as an angular vision—i.e. seeing something just above or below, not directly, to describe the everyday and apprehend the holiness.
It has been said that Buechner’s book, Telling Secrets, is a life transforming one for preachers.
“Secrets can do damage, they undermine facing the present head on. Doubts, failures, mysteries, imperfections, warts and all—tell all the secrets, the truth will set you free.”
Buechner says that we preachers need to be whistling in the dark.
“Without darkness, people cannot appreciate the light. Writing and preaching are like whistling in the dark. It is trying to convince ourselves as preachers that there is something, someone more than the darkness.”
I like this image of “whistling in the dark,” for me it is an image of hope, courage and joy—that even in the face of sufferings and an uncertain future, we can dare to live with hope, take courage, and be joyful. Why? Because God—Immanuel—is with us.
According to Buechner:
“There is nothing more powerful than a preacher speaking with love to a congregation.”
This reminds me of the captive audience of the disciples on the Emmaus road with the risen Christ, when Jesus opened up the meanings of God’s Word.
“Silence is the first language of God. We need to listen to God in silence. Preaching is born out of silence.”
The times my sermons fall on deaf ears are likely due in part at least to the reality that I did not spend enough time in silence to germinate the Word or hear what the Holy Spirit was speaking to me.
Buechner’s writing is often darkness before the light, the muck before the cleanliness.
“What’s lost is nothing to what’s found.”
Amen to that, for that’s the Good News of the parable of the prodigal son in a nutshell!
Sermon Thanksgiving Sunday Yr B
Thanksgiving Sunday Yr B, 11/10/2009
Matt 6:25-33
Rev. Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson
Pastor of Grace Lutheran Church, &
Chaplain of The Good Samaritan Society’s
South Ridge Village, Medicine Hat, Alberta
“Thanks for God’s kingdom and righteousness”
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, while locked inside a Nazi prison, wrote the following words: “By good powers wonderfully hidden, we await cheerfully, come what may.” In today’s gospel, which is part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, we too are exhorted to await cheerfully, come what may—living with a sense of awe and thanksgiving at our heavenly Father’s good powers wonderfully hidden. Instead of worrying about what to eat, drink, and wear; Jesus encourages us to look around at God’s creation. Look at the birds of the air, the lilies and grass of the field. See how our heavenly Father provides for them, and creates them with such beauty. We are of much more value and God provides much more for our needs, both spiritually and physically. Seek first God’s kingdom and righteousness; live in a relationship of trust and obedience to your heavenly Father; open your heart and life to him; see his work all around you in creation; such seeing opens us up to live life giving God our thanks. When we spend our life whining and complaining, finding fault and criticising—then we become blind to how generously our heavenly Father provides for all of our needs. Our energy then is focussed on what’s wrong in life and prevents us from living a life of thanksgiving. The following story illustrates this quite well.
A poor devout woman lived with her husband, their five children, and her mother in a one-room hut. The children were noisy, and the crowded conditions often produced loud arguments. In summer, when the family spent many hours outdoors, life was bearable, but when winter arrived the family felt trapped because the small house was filled with crying and quarrelling. One day when the woman couldn’t stand it anymore, she ran to the Teacher for advice.
“Teacher,” she cried, “life is miserable. My husband, our five children, my mother, and I are so crowded in our little hut that we argue and quarrel every day. I can’t stand the noise anymore. Please help me. I’ll do whatever you say.”
The Teacher pondered her request for several minutes. Then he asked, “Do you have any chickens?”
“Certainly,” the woman replied. “We have six chickens, a rooster, and a goose.”
“Excellent,” said the Teacher. “Go home and bring the chickens, the rooster, and the goose into your hut to live with you.”
The woman was surprised, but she immediately left for home, promising to move the poultry into the house.
After a week passed, the woman returned to the Teacher. “Life is worse than before,” she told the teacher. “In addition to crying and quarrelling, we now have honking, crowing, and clucking. Yesterday we all had feathers in our soup. The hut seems smaller and the children seem larger. Please help me!”
The Teacher considered the woman’s words before he spoke. “Do you have a goat?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “We have an old goat, tied to a pole behind our house.”
“Excellent,” said the Teacher. “Untie the goat and let it live in your hut with you.”
“Teacher, we are already crowded,” the woman cried.
“You did ask for my help, didn’t you?” the Teacher responded.
The poor woman walked home, untied the goat, and brought it in the hut. Five days later she returned. “Teacher,” she said desperately, “everything is worse. Now, in addition to the crying, quarrelling, honking, crowing, and clucking, we have a goat pushing and butting everyone with his horns. The hut seems even smaller.”
The Teacher asked, “Do you have a cow?”
“Yes,” the woman said fearfully, “we have a cow.”
“Go home and take the cow into your hut.”
“Oh, no, Teacher,” the woman cried. “My family will be angry.”
“Tell them the Teacher has ordered it.”
The poor woman went home and told her husband to move the cow into the hut.
“Is the Teacher crazy?” he shouted.
Still, they moved the cow into the hut.
Three days later the woman returned. “Life is a nightmare,” the woman cried. “Now, in addition to the crying, quarrelling, honking, crowing, clucking, and butting, the cow tramples everything. We all argue and shout at one another. Help me, please!”
The Teacher smiled. “Go home and let the animals out of your hut.”
The woman turned and went home as fast as she could run. As she ran she yelled, “Thank you, Teacher, thank you.”
As soon as she reached home the woman, and her husband let the cow, the goat, the chickens, the goose, and the rooster out of their hut.
That night the poor man and all his family slept peacefully. There was no honking, crowing, clucking, butting, or trampling. There was also no arguing or fighting.
The very next morning the woman and her husband came to the Teacher. “We wish to thank you for your help,” the man said.
“Life is sweet and peaceful,” the woman responded. “We love our home. It is quiet, peaceful, and so roomy.”1
On this Thanksgiving Sunday, we have much to be thankful for. Do we have the eyes to see and the heart to appreciate all the blessings our LORD has given us? The following story is a beautiful example of having the eyes to see and the heart to appreciate God’s blessings around us in God’s creation—even when life is difficult and trying:
The story comes from Viktor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning. Do you remember Frankl? He was the psychotherapist who was imprisoned by the Nazis and survived to write a book about his experience. He told about the afternoon in one of the camps when the men had tramped back several miles from their work site and were lying exhausted and sick and hungry in their barracks. It was in the winter, and they had marched through a cold, dispiriting rain. Suddenly one of the men burst into the barracks and shouted for the others to come outside. Reluctantly, but sensing the urgency in the man’s voice, they stirred themselves and staggered into the courtyard. The rain had stopped, and a bit of sunlight was breaking through under the lumpy, leaden clouds. And it was reflecting on the little pools of water standing about on the concrete floor of the courtyard. “We stood there,” said Frankl, “marvelling at the goodness of the creation. We were tired and cold and sick, we were starving to death, we had lost our loved ones and never expected to see them again, yet there we stood, feeling a sense of reverence as old and formidable as the world itself!”
Was that romantic and unrealistic? Surely it was, in a way. Yet it was an experience of incredibly deep significance to those men. It reminded them, for all their woes, of the invincibility of the things they really believed, of the values of love and friendship in a world gone awry. It put them in touch again with faith and hope and courage. It gave them what they needed to go on living in a crucible of cruelty and humiliation.2
So, on this Thanksgiving Sunday even if you are experiencing troubles, worries, anxieties, illness, pains, hurts, grief, suffering—remember that there are many things and people, many blessings you can thank God for. If God provides food and shelter for the birds of the air; how much more will our heavenly Father provide us with food and shelter? And consider the lilies of the field; our heavenly Father provides clothing for them more beautiful than all the wardrobe of King Solomon—how much more will he provide clothing for you? Let us pray: Thank you God of heaven and earth for the beauty and richness of your creation. Grant us ever thankful hearts and lives; help us to count our blessings today and every day, and share them with everyone, especially those in greatest need. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
1 Cited from: Wm. R. White, Stories for the Gathering: A Treasury for Christian Storytellers (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1997), pp. 126-128.
2 Cited from: John Killinger, “Of Rainbows, Geese and Wildflowers,” January 22, 1995, at: <http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/killinger_3816.htm>.
Sermon 18 Pentecost Yr B
18 Pentecost Yr B, 4/10/2009
Job 1:1; 2:1-10
Rev. Garth Wehrfritz-Hanson
Pastor of Grace Lutheran Church, &
Chaplain of The Good Samaritan Society’s
South Ridge Village, Medicine Hat, Alberta
“Job’s suffering”
Have you ever felt that God was punishing you? Do you think that God tests our love for him? Is faith worth anything if it is not put on trial? What kind of a God do you believe in, worship, and serve? Questions of this nature crop up when we face suffering or when we read the Book of Job.
Many people, even today, look at faith and ask: “What’s in it for me?” Such folks can often reduce God to a cosmic bell hop, and demand that God give them everything they ask for. Do you need a parking spot close to the bank? No problem, ask God in prayer for one, and viola, an empty space is waiting for you when you arrive. Do you need an A+ on your final exam? No matter that you didn’t study the material, just pray the night before and magically God will give you that A+. Do you have cancer? Pray for healing and God will heal you. Such a view of God and prayer operates with the ages-old belief that: If you are a righteous person, God will protect and reward you throughout your lifetime. If you are a sinner and a wicked person, then God will punish you and afflict you with all kinds of sufferings. Is such a belief-system true though? Does it stand up to real life situations?
Listen to what one pastor had to say about such beliefs: I remember reading an article by Chaplain Stephen Webster, who was in Europe with the American Forces during the Second World War. It was an angry article called “Who Gets the Breaks in Prayer?” He told his readers that he was fed up with all the stories of miraculous rescues at sea and deliverances from rafts adrift in the North Atlantic; deliverances attributed by people to God in response to their great faith. Such incidents foster the idea that if only we are good and say our prayers, God will never let us down. He will look after us and do precisely what we ask Him to do. Chaplain Webster wanted to tell of the good men and women he knew who were not rescued. They prayed and they had faith, but they were not miraculously plucked from danger, but died, undelivered, yet still full of faith and trust.1
Contrary to “the health and wealth gospel” of our day and of every age, God is not our cosmic bell hop. A religion, a faith that is rooted in selfishness cannot stand the tests of time. Oh yes, it keeps cropping up all right, but that’s because of who we are as human beings—we are sinners. Sinners shall always want to be God in God’s place. Sinners shall always be turned in upon themselves. In our old sinful nature, we shall always ask: “What’s in this for me?” We shall always be tempted to oversimplify God and our faith into the formula that: “The good and righteous people shall prosper, be blessed and protected by God; while the wicked and sinful people shall be punished by God and suffer.”
The Book of Job was, I think, written to debunk such an oversimplified view of God and faith. God is far more complicated than that, and so is faith. God, in addition to being closer to us than we ourselves is also the Wholly Other God, the Transcendent One who is shrouded in mystery and far beyond human comprehension. Our faith is very complex too. Faithful folks like you and I know that life is full of vicissitudes—we have ups and we have downs. Yes, there are mountaintop experiences that fill us with joy and hope. However, there are also journeys into dark valleys of despair, doubt and suffering. Life is full of paradoxes—when we go through sufferings and illnesses we are not necessarily being punished for them. Rather, the sufferings and illnesses strengthen our faith and trust in the LORD; draw us closer to Christ and his sufferings; and give us compassion towards others who face sufferings and illnesses.
In today’s first lesson from the Book of Job, we are given a helpful example of how to handle the sufferings of life. The story starts off with the narrator telling us that Job was: “blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil.” The Good News Bible puts it like this, Job: “worshipped God and was faithful to him.” In other words, Job was a man of integrity and honesty, and highly ethical, practicing mercy and justice in his relations with others.
For several years, God blessed Job with happiness, health and wealth. He and his wife gave birth to 7 sons and 3 daughters. He possessed 500 oxen and 500 donkeys; 7,000 sheep and 3,000 camels. Job also employed many workers. So, for several years, life was good for Job, his wife and their family.
However, that situation changes with the blink of an eye! Satan, here a member of God’s heavenly court, before he was cast down from heaven; is sceptical about Job and his motives of faithfulness. Satan says to God that it’s easy for a person to be faithful to God if he or she is doing well in life. What would happen though if all of their possessions and wealth were taken away? Satan, whose name means “the accuser,” challenges God and says that Job will curse God to his face if Job’s possessions and wealth were taken away. God accepts the challenge and allows Satan to wreak havoc with Job’s possessions and wealth, with the condition that he does not kill Job. So, in the blink of an eye, everything is taken away from Job. Job’s oxen and donkeys; sheep and camels; his many servants; even his sons and daughters perished, not one of them survived—all in one day! What tragedy! How could Job not reach his breaking point in the face of such tragedy? Yet, he does not reach breaking point. God obviously created him and graced him with the capacity to endure all of these sufferings.
However, Satan, not happy with Job’s integrity and uprightness, pushes the envelope further. Now he challenges God to let him afflict Job’s person. According to Satan, if Job’s own bone and flesh were struck, he would curse God to God’s face. God, again obviously trusting that Job could endure such a test, gives Satan the go-ahead, with the limitation that he must spare Job’s life. Job is then attacked with “loathsome sores…from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.” For relief from these irritable sores, Job picks up a piece of pottery and scratches himself, sitting among the ashes, which may be the town’s garbage dump. The ashes may be a sign of Job’s humility before God in the face of his suffering.
Watching all of this suffering is too much for Job’s wife, she finally cries out: “Do you still persist in your integrity? Curse God, and die.” Actually the Hebrew word for curse is ambiguous here, it can also mean bless. Job’s wife, perhaps out of love for her husband, feels helpless in the face of Job’s suffering. Perhaps she can see no alternative than for Job to die—whether this is a death wish on her part as a consequence to Job’s illness or whether she is counselling Job to commit suicide as a way out of his suffering, is not clear from the text. At any rate, we should not likely be too judgemental of Job’s wife—rather, her words may well be motivated by her love and care for her husband.
Job, however seems to rebuke her, saying she speaks like “any foolish woman would speak.” He then concludes by understanding his suffering with the following answer in the form of a question: “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” The narrator of the story then concludes by praising Job’s faithfulness: “In all this Job did not sin with his lips.”
In other words, Job was tested to see if he could love God for nothing. Would he remain faithful to God in the face of suffering? Was he able to love God without a cause; without payment or reward; without a reason? True love of God is not conditional—we cannot truly love God because of this or because of that. The minute we do so, we’re putting conditions on God. True love of God, is like Job’s love for God. We love God because we love God, for no other reason.
C.S. Lewis was once asked, “Why do the righteous suffer?” “Why not?” he replied. “They’re the only ones who can take it.” Today’s story of Job’s suffering bears faithful witness to C.S. Lewis’ answer. May we, like Job, be able to love God because we love God, for no other reason. Amen.
1 Cited from: R. Maurice Boyd, A Lover’s Quarrel With The World: Sermons by R. Maurice Boyd (Burlington, ON: Welch Publishing Co. Inc., 1985), pp. 119-120.
Contemporary church music
Contemporary church music
This past weekend, here in Medicine Hat, we were privileged to have the ordained Presbyterian minister, renowned preacher, composer and journalist, John L. Bell from Scotland’s Iona Community visit our fair city and lead church folk from around Alberta in several workshop and worship sessions.
John Bell has the gift of inspiring almost anyone to sing. I was astounded how, within three to five minutes of meeting us, he had us singing beautifully, even in harmony, a simple song composed by the Iona Community.
In his talks, John regaled us with several humorous, inspirational stories—everything from dedicating one of his books to two of his former teachers who told him he could not sing; to a visitor causing a stir in a worship service when his glass eye fell out and parishioners by mistake retrieved a mint instead; to having the patience to listen with love and care to a man who spoke with a stammer.
In a more serious vein, one of the insightful observations that John made concerning Christian art and music in the Western Church is that the vast majority of works depict Jesus in a passive manner. He critiqued such classic hymn lines as: “The cattle are lowing; the poor baby wakes, but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.” Such hymns, according to Bell are not real to life; they rob Jesus of his humanity. So, John and the other members of the Iona Community compose hymns that are based on gospel stories that portray Christ’s humanity and hence are more real and accessible for folks today. In addition to lyrics lauding Jesus’ humanity, the Iona compositions also employ very singer-friendly pieces. The music is simple, often contemporary, yet inspirational—some of the compositions remind me a bit of the Taizé Community chants, once you learn them, they stay with you and you hum or sing them repeatedly internally.
May God grant John Bell a long and healthy life as he shares his music with the world!
