I wish I could say, “Follow me,” or “I need you to do something,” and people would drop their nets and do it. Jesus is able to get grown men to drop what they are doing to follow him. Of course, Jesus has the Son of God thing going for him, but the fishermen don’t yet know that – and they know idea what they sign on for, or where Jesus will lead them. Mark’s Jesus commands attention – few words – like President Calvin Coolidge, who once decided to attend church. He gets home and Mrs. Coolidge asks, “What was the sermon about?” “Sin.” “Well, what did the preacher say?” “He’s against it.” That’s like Mark’s Jesus. He invites; they follow – that’s all we need to know.

I doubt the fishermen had heard Jesus’ sermon: “The time is fulfilled, the Kingdom of God has come near – repent and believe in the good news.” The Jews long awaited God to come and take real, manly charge of this world. If God is near or will be soon, that’s good news – maybe enough to cause a person to drop everything and follow a stranger.

When I was young the good news I was taught to believe meant a plan to get us to heaven when we die: “You are pretty crummy; repent; be baptized to be saved, and you’ll go to heaven.” That doesn’t hold for me anymore – though I am not opposed to going to heaven. The good news is God comes in Jesus to reign in us. Heaven comes to earth to calibrate heaven’s life with our earth lives. If we accept the good news, then we join God in making earth a place where people have enough, and those with too much share; a reign of love, generosity, respect for all, and no one has to be left out. God’s kingdom is now, here, among us. That’s good news.

Today we celebrate St. Paul’s 173^rd Annual Meeting. We do a lot of things really well – like welcoming people, showing generosity of spirit, active outreach opportunities, wonderful music – and superb potluck meals. As I listen to some your reflections, I wonder how well we connect what happens in here to our daily life in the world. We say God is important – but do distractions and responsibilities keep us from giving time and making room for God and each other in holy and reverent ways? We may know more about the broken hearted women on the “Bachelor,” than friends whose hearts are also broken, sitting on the pews beside us. Do people find God’s good news here? Does God truly reign within and among us? Do we have such relationships among ourselves that we can share our crises, doubts, talk about faith, tell our stories, ask and value questions for which we have no answers, and listen prayerfully to each other? Does God’s kingdom impact our thoughts and values of how we act daily? God’s reign is not just for Sundays. Maybe we can pay create more opportunities to see God at work among us, and share our stories to help each other on this journey of discovery and thanksgiving.

Can we help each other move from a place of holy longings to holy conversations where faith grows? I believe so, and we are. The new Prayer Ministry Team connects people daily in prayers for others. Praying lifts us into God and reminds us God is active in holy care for each other. Foyer Groups bring people closer, over food, laughter and stories shared a holy, sacred presence and relationships deepen. Living Compass is a place for holy conversations. God is present in our listening, sharing struggles and joys, encouraging each other, praying and supporting each other. When we serve a meal to the hungry, participate in a Common Ground project, volunteer at the Thrift Shop, or tutor a child – God is active through our hearts and hands. Some of our members work daily with people whose lives are broken, some unfixable. God is active when we are present, not to fix, but to listen, as the book title says, “Don’t just do something; sit there.” Just showing up for the other, our hearts open to God, can bring God’s love alive. Being a member of the choir, volunteering in the office, I hope we see God is active among us. Maybe we need more opportunities for holy conversations with God and each other.

The reign of God is here. That’s good news that needs to be lived and shared. People may not see it readily, but they’ll know it by our love – for God and for all. The good news is God is present and with us each day. We discover this in individual holy conversations – or prayers and silence with God and in gatherings and ministries we share together in holy conversations, at church – even in homes – with children and youth – spouses, partners, friends. Sounds sort of risky, I know. But then Jesus doesn’t seem to let risk get in his way.

Here’s a prayer is in the spirit of St. Francis I found recently:

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart. Amen.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace. Amen.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy. Amen.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done. Amen.[i]

As we pray and live this prayer, and talk with each other about what we see God is up to among us, God’s nearness becomes very good news. Like Jesus says, “Where two or three are gathered together…”  What nets do we need to drop to follow Jesus more fully?

Have you ever walked into a room to realize, “I don’t belong here?” You hope others there would agree. As a hospice chaplain, I had to have certain vaccinations to work with patients. Our agency used a clinic that gave such vaccines, and did drug testing. One morning I walk into the waiting room for a shot. What am I doing here? I sit by a guy wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, arms like an art exhibit, and his bicep declaring his love for his mama. I felt out of place in my ironed polo shirt and khakis. Unlike others, I wore no jewelry in my lips, nose, or eyebrows. When I was called back, I wanted to yell out – “I am here for a vaccination, not the other.”

So today: “Jesus, what are you doing standing in line with those sinners?” Jesus stands waist deep in the river, waiting his turn, repenting of sins for baptism – really? Writer and preacher Barbara Brown Taylor says we could understand why he’s here if he’d pat people on the back to say, “Well done!” – Or if he waits on the shore to hand a towel when someone comes up from the water. If Jesus has no sin, no need to repent, why is getting baptized with sinners? People will think he’s one of them.

Mark doesn’t answer. No one can, really. Mark does tell us what happened when Jesus pops up out of the water. He sees the heavens torn apart, and the Spirit descends into him, doesn’t just land on him (the NRSV misses it). And Jesus hears a voice: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

What does Jesus’ baptism mean? Jesus never says. Mark gives some clues. First the heavens over Jesus don’t open gently like the roof at Miller Park. They tear – rip open violently. Old Testament prophets cry out for God to tear open the heavens, come down here, and start smiting their enemies and the wicked. So when the heavens are torn open, and the Spirit gets into Jesus, heaven finally comes to earth. God comes – not to smite, but to love and call forth what He’s made us to be. For some that will be good news, those who know they need rescue from sin, bad decisions, failures and meanness. God enters this world to bring home those who turn to him, sort of like the father who welcomes his prodigal child back – scot-free. But those standing on the riverbanks watching and grumbling, feeling self-righteous and wondering what this parade of clowns is about miss what God is doing. Jesus won’t be good news for them. They have all the news they want, and besides, they have no reason they think to get in water with sinners. So where are you in this story? Are we more often open, or closed to God? Do we even believe God is with us, and active among us?

And the Spirit – remember how God’s spirit brings order out of chaos in creation. God’s Spirit descends into us at our baptism to create order and purpose from our personal chaos. God’s Spirit gets into us, never to be removed. We are sealed. And as Jesus hears a new name so will we, marked as Christ’s own forever, renamed – “Beloved child of God.” Our purpose now changes from serving self to serving God by loving others.

What does baptism mean for how we live each day? We realize daily we are called to live in the world, but not of the world. We are a people who meet each week for teaching and fellowship, break bread, hold each other and the world in prayer so we can leave here to serve Christ in all persons, love our neighbor as ourselves; strive for justice – work for peace and reconciliation; respect everyone’s dignity whether we agree with them or not. We talk with God about our personal sins and the sins we do together. In just such talks we are forgiven just for asking and God brings us back home. We ask God to open our hearts and pour his love into us so we can pick each other up when we stumble and fall – when we mess up or fail, those who are part of us, and those who could be.

Over years of being invited into people’s lives – hearing stories from people who’ve strayed and ask if God will take them back, I wonder how the gospel gets lost. When the heavens tear open and the Spirit comes down – Jesus’ baptism is a sign he’s with us in the messes – just as he did by getting into the water with all our sins. We get lost or go astray. He always knows where we are. All that’s needed to come is to turn and see who’s alongside us. So don’t ever give up on yourself, or anyone else. And don’t worry if someone will mistake you for a sinner either. All of us are. We look different on the outside, but inside we are alike – all needing the same healing and forgiving love of God.

We renew our baptismal vows today to remember who we are, whose we are, and what God is making of us, lest we forget. God won’t do this alone. He needs our participation in this project to bring others home. I like the way D.T. Niles, a Methodist missionary stated who we are: “A Christian witness is not like a rich person with a lot of bread to hand out to poor beggars who have nothing. Rather we are like one beggar who tells another beggar where we find bread.” That bread is Jesus Christ – and those who feast on God’s love never go hungry and starve. And the real good news – this bread will never run out on us. That’s why I think Jesus doesn’t mind if people think he’s just one of us. He comes to be that, so he could make us more like one of him.

Thanks goodness Luke tells a story worthy of a Christmas pageant. Imagine a children’s pageant with no shepherds abiding in fields; no angels lighting up the skies – they’d have nothing to announce; no stable, sheep or cows, no lowly couple or newborn babe in a manger. That would be John’s Christmas pageant. Imagine his story blocked and staged: Eerie smoke swirls in a soft light. A deep voice booms: “In the beginning was the Word – and the Word was with God and was God. Through the Word comes life – a light for all people that overcomes darkness. And the Word became flesh and moved in with us.” Stage lights go up; a boy plaid bath robe is encircled by a cluster of similarly bathrobe costumed boys. Why it’s John the Baptist and minions turned interrogators, sent by Jerusalem’s clergy leaders.

Inquiring minds want to know, “Who are you?” “Don’t know what you’re thinking, but I am not the Messiah,” replies John. He says he’s not Elijah or Moses, but he is like Isaiah crying out from the wilderness, getting folks ready for something big headed their way. He’s evasive – won’t answer directly, which makes him seem like a present-day politician of either party. And even more “in your face,” John says the one he heralds is here already and, “You wouldn’t know him if he stood in front of you,” meaning they are too blind to get it – not the smartest thing to tell anxious clergy. But then John is a prophet who speaks God’s mind, and that can get you killed in this world, even by good, God-loving, God committed believers.

Nice, a bit edgy – but not warm, inviting Christmas pageant material, is it? John doesn’t even inspire a Christmas carol. Think Star Wars – beginning in a time before time – a mystical Word invading this world – becoming one of us, making eternal light known.

The meaning of Christmas no longer grabs our attention or startles us. I recently read an article by a writer who loves Jesus and Christmas. She says the Christmas season we create gets in the way of what God’s doing and wants to give us. “Do Christians really think the son of God is the reason for reduced-price waffle-makers and winter wonderland scenes at the mall?” Even in other countries with virtually no Christian population people decorate homes and apartments like we do – for our holidays – minus Jesus.

A minister friend remarked to our rabbi friend: “The Jews need to market Hanukah – make it into a big celebration with gifts and cards, like we do with Christmas.” Rabbi Friedman’s response: “Now why would we want to mess up Hanukah like you’ve done with your Christmas?”

Let’s be honest. Cultural Christmas doesn’t carry incarnation’s luggage: God dwells now in our flesh with us. You don’t hear that much outside the church. I love all that goes on this time of year. I am all for the culture’s happy family togetherness, sipping hot cocoa by a crackling fire, staring at twinkling lights, and listening to Lady Gaga sing “Silent Night.” I like presents, fattening dips, eggnog, joy and good will. I like for people to find their hopes and fears met through all the years. It’s just not what God coming to be with us means. Too bad so many find what they set hearts on and get isn’t what lasts and they truly want. That’s why we need someone like John. We are like the anxious, searching interrogators – thinking we know what we want, yet blind to what we most need. Come on, Jesus isn’t really the reason for the season. He’s become an asterisk.

John comes into the wilderness of our blindness, wandering, the emptiness, futility and brokenness, our discontent – to point to one whose coming overcomes darkness, who indwells us with eternal life and light. John lifts us into a larger story surrounding our little lives, a story we might otherwise miss. After all, even when Jesus arrives, his closest know he is special, but that’s about all. Christmas means God has come in our flesh and moves in with us – which is larger than thinking divine intervention happens when we find our lost car keys or a parking space at the mall this Christmas. God with us is not just chirpy optimism, either. The world and our lives are a mess. The startling news of Christmas is the God of creation comes to live among and within us. John points us to His coming.

It takes practice to have faith and trust that God’s Word has already overcome the darkness, because honestly that’s often hard to believe. God has come to indwell hearts waiting to be lit with divine life and love for others. If we sit on our pews, waiting for God to do something, we’ll be left behind. Like John, we point others to the light – light that now dwells in us. That’s who we are, O “Christmas of God” people. We are people of courage and hope, living differently because that light shines in us – divine unconditional love giving to all joy, peace, patience – leaving judgment and conclusions to God – empowering us to love those we’d otherwise reject, relieving us of the pride to think we know all – or need to fix anyone.

Week after week, we gather – tell and listen to the story, pray, sing, point to the Word, eat bread, drink wine – baptize, light candles, give thanks in all things. God’s good news, the Word dwelling with us, is for everyone if it’s for anyone. We keep telling and rehearsing the story so God can shape us into who are made to be. Our role is to point and serve making the way plain for the one who has come and forever is with us, Emmanuel, God with us.

Have you ever met a genuine “died in the wool” New Testament Christian? They can be scary. Years ago captive in an examination chair, my optometrist tells me he’s one – has no use for the Old Testament and no longer reads any of it. “I’m a New Testament Christian.”  I figure maybe now is not the best time to offer an opposing view. He was helping me learn to stick my finger in my eye to attach soft contact lenses, something I swore I’d never do. After I mastered it, forcing my eyelids to stay open as my loaded finger approached, I asked, “Don’t you think we need the Old Testament to understand Jesus? After all that was his Bible. If you don’t get the Old Testament, you won’t get Jesus.” In my friend’s world Jesus became a Christian at Easter, so why bother with the old stuff when God starts anew?

My friend is not alone. I’ve met others who think faith begins in Jesus. God starts all over, so the Old Testament is useless, done. Erase the past. Besides, God has a better attitude in the New Testament.

Actually God is not starting over, but fulfills the Old Testament’s destination in Jesus. For Mark gospel’s roots sprout in the soil of Israel’s earliest chapters. He says – remember Isaiah, see John the Baptist. Isaiah proclaims God is about to set the people free, held captive in a foreign land – to go home to Jerusalem. John’s preaching calls people home – from sin and bad religion – people who in their minds and hearts are apart from God. John says, “Good news, you don’t have to be. Repent and come to the God who comes for you.” John’s so good at it, all Jerusalem and Judea go out to hear him in the wilderness. The wilderness has been the place God trains prophets – and where God’s future judgment begins – not at the Temple with Ivy League seminary grads – but with a character who dresses like Elijah – camel hair toga held together by a leather strap, beard dripping honey and free-range locusts. Elijah’s return is a sign Messiah comes. We look back so we can understand what is about to come. Without the Old Testament we’d have no idea what Mark is telling us about John and the Jesus.

God keeps coming to us – same message, different delivery system. This time God comes in human flesh. As of old, God comes to love us, not condemn us – to tell us who we really are if we have sense enough to listen. Sometimes in the story God needs Israel’s attention to understand this. In our day many have no idea of what God is doing. Without eyes of faith, God looks like a non-player, or a being to avoid. Yet in turning our attention toward God we see God is with us all along – in our yearnings for what is eternal, which is the deepest longing this season stirs up in us. God comes not to get us to heaven, but to bring heaven into us. God comes to love us home.

Here’s what happens – we set our hearts on stuff, titles, honors, esteem, having more to satisfy the yearning. But we attach to lesser things. Deep down we know it’s an illusion. We keep on trying, become more dissatisfied, knotted in fear, anxious, convinced we are not enough – we don’t have enough. I’ve heard that parents can rent Christmas toys for their tots, and turn them back in when the kid’s interest fades, replace them with the next best thing. How wonderful! Sadly, we miss what we so long for – God’s unconditional love – that God all along has been trying to give us. We are raised with conditional love – rewarded for good behaviors and punished for bad. Unconditional love is hard to experience. How can we give others what we ourselves are yet to experience, if God’s love is merely an idea? We are not used to being loved with no strings attached – just because we are. That’s how God loves us, always has. God keeps coming in new ways to let us know.

Repent to receive this life, says John. Turn toward God not because we are evil, awful people – but because we are so loved. Sins we confess are attachments, addictions, attitudes that separate us from God. We can freely confess we’re not what we hope to be. Secret – God already knows.

Repentance turns us toward God. We become like that to which we give our attention. We see and trust we are God’s beloved, and we live like it. We trade fear, meanness, grudges and anger for kindness, generosity, compassion, loving and forgiving others even if we don’t want to. God’s taken care of removing an obstacle that keeps us separated, even before we ask. We come to church, listen deeply, hear words, connect anew to God, and go forth into the world, renewed to be God’s beloved for others.

I am reading Redemptorist priest Ken Sedlak’s wonderful book, Why God Loves Us…no matter what. Do you remember Jesus’ story of the merchant who finds a pearl of incomparable value in a field. I’ve read that story all these years thinking I have to act like the merchant. I must sell all, do any and everything to obtain this pearl of insurmountable value – God’s presence, unconditional love and salvation – or suffer the consequences. Jesus has a different version: God is the merchant. You and I are the pearl. God has always loved us; God gives, sells, pays whatever it costs to love us, claim and have us. What would our world be like if we really believed it?

In Advent we hear again who we are and who God is – a relentless lover, so stubborn to never give up on any of us, and whose love draws out who we really are. God loves this world so passionately from the beginning, a love given for all.

Maybe we can add one more to our shopping list this year – just what you needed to hear right now – not to worry, it’s not me. Maybe we can give a gift to God. After all it is Jesus’ birthday, not ours. Maybe we could heed John’s voice and repent – taking God seriously in our time, commitments, prayer, service, in hearing anew the old, old story, and begin going in a new, different direction, letting God’s unconditional love touch us through Jesus – permeate our lives – not for our pleasure, but for the sake of others and for the world. That’s how heaven comes to earth – in us. And after all, isn’t that what Christmas means?

You can tell we are getting toward the end of the Church Year. Sunday readings are become dark and ominous: warnings about dumping any false gods you still cling to; trumpets in the sky, the Lord descending and the die rising – that’ll get your attention. And then today’s gospel – Jesus sounds a bit edgy. His early parables are inviting and full of grace. We are being saved in spite of ourselves. Recently we learn when we accept God’s invitation, don’t mess up, like the guy who forgot his wedding tux, or these foolish bridesmaids who hadn’t counted on the groom being late. Just showing up is not enough. People who are in the kingdom can be tossed out or shut out.

Heaven’s kingdom is like a wedding banquet. Ten bridesmaids wait with their lamps at the banquet hall to welcome the groom. We’re told five are foolish; five are wise. Evening becomes night. The groom’s late. The girls doze off. As midnight a shout pierces the silence: “He’s here. Bring your lamps and come welcome him.” Well, these lamps have been burning since dusk. Oil is running out. The foolish panic, “My oil is gone. Let me borrow some of yours.” “No way; go get your own.” They dash off while the groom and five wise maids go inside. Think about this: a store selling oil is going to be open at midnight? When the foolish five return the party’s started without them, and they find the door is locked. They pound on the door: “Let us in. We’re back.” The groom looks out the window and shouts, “Don’t know you. Go away.” ”You don’t understand. We have invitations. We went to get oil – let us in.” The groom leaves them out in the dark, and that’s what makes this story unpleasant. The five foolish aren’t shut out for bad behavior or lack of faith. They just weren’t ready when the groom arrives. Aren’t we all supposed to get in – isn’t there a no sinner left behind policy – in this kingdom?

Those in Matthew’s church know exactly what’s going on. They’ve been waiting for Jesus to return. Years pass. “Was it all a bad dream? Am I wasting my time?” People will grow tired, and lose patience and faith. They find other amusements, look for other gods for their lives, their time and money. The light of Jesus’ life grows dim in theirs. They foolishly go unprepared.

Here we are two thousand years later – still waiting. Do we still expect the groom to show up? Or have we given up, too? As with Matthew’s church, some of us fall away. We still show up but go through motions with hearts disengaged, lives unchanged. We pray if we want something. Some Christians know little of God’s story – not enough to recognize where God is at work in this world.

Here’s another way to look at the question. Maybe we aren’t the only ones waiting. Maybe Jesus waits on us, like at this table – in bites of bread and sips of wine. Jesus says he could come at any moment, even this one – even in the least of these – the voiceless, the forgotten, even in those we may lock out from the banquet. Are we prepared for Jesus’ return?

Isn’t life like this? One day our time runs out, the monitor flat lines – we draw a last breath. That’s it. The door is shut and it’s too late to do what we didn’t get around to doing? What is the oil that keeps our lives lit with the light of Jesus? I don’t know exactly what this oil is. We can tell when it’s missing. How do we prepare? We learn God’s love story for us. We study scripture. We worship, give our time and money. We pray, and listen some more. And it’s God’s love that draws us out of ourselves. Others see Jesus coming to them through us. We live in union with God and in love with one another. We live as if today is our last day.

How many have made a “bucket list?” You do know what they are – a list of what you want to do or accomplish before your time runs out? What about creating a faith bucket list – have you done that yet? Are you satisfied that you have prepared well – your oil stock is full, you are ready – or are there some faith goals still hanging out there? What would be on your faith bucket list? Remember, the foolish were good, well-intended and invited – they just weren’t prepared.

Hanging around Duke Divinity School some years ago, I heard a story of a sermon about beloved professor and chapel dean, Jim Cleland. Decades ago, when we spoke King James English, this story was called “The Parable of the Ten Virgins.” He came to the end of his sermon at a male prep school, and boldly asked: “Men, would you rather be inside in the light with five wise virgins, or out in the dark with five foolish virgins?” The boys shouted back, “Out in the dark with the foolish virgins!” Sermon ended. That’s Jesus’ question to us. Are we living wisely? We don’t want to get stuck in the dark – especially when we know better.

High drama and a cheering crowd follow Jesus on his final entrance into Jerusalem. On his way home, he stops by the Temple, causing such a scene he gets the undivided attention of the religion police and makes front page of the afternoon Jerusalem Times. When he returns the next day, authorities are waiting for him, armed with tricky questions. To pick up on a popular sport, chief priests and elders throw the first pitch. He knocks their trap into the bleachers – and the crowd goes wild.  Next some junior Pharisees and Herodians are called in. Same result. Sadducees now take the mound. Jesus blasts their fastball out of the Temple. Finally the Pharisees arrive – with a lawyer to toss Jesus one more test.

But he is not our kind of lawyer, one who inspires jokes like: “Why won’t sharks attack lawyers? – Answer: professional courtesy.” (Lawyers who are members of St. Paul’s Church are exempted from this pejorative joke.) Lawyers in Jesus’ day were Bible scholars, enforcing God’s rules. Here’s his pitch: “Which commandment is the greatest?” Out of 613 laws, Jesus is supposed to pick just one? With sleight of hand, Jesus reaches back to Deuteronomy: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and with all your mind.” Who could disagree? Even backsliding Jews know this one. Then Jesus adds, “And love your neighbor as yourself,” a command from Leviticus. Jesus is on a roll, “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” And with that addition, Jesus sums up the whole law, which he really wasn’t supposed to do. He’s practicing religion without a license. The law and prophets hang with the Pharisees, scribes and lawyers. In essence Jesus says we are known not by rules we keep, but by the love we live. He just changed the playing field, and they don’t like it a bit.

Some years ago at the onset of Lent, I became stuck on a question: “How do I love God?” What does Jesus mean when he says we are to love God? I know I am supposed to love God – but I don’t have a lot of emotion about it. How do we conjure up feelings for a mysterious being, ineffable, never fully explained, too large for our minds? We love family members – or at least most of them; friends, a good book, a fine wine – things we see. We give gifts, cards and spend time together to show love, without thinking a lot about it. I kept wondering – but what about God whom I don’t see? Am I just saying words of love mindlessly – “Oh, sure I love you, God.” But what does loving God mean?

Merely asking the question brings God forefront into our awareness. Contrary to some popular belief, we don’t invite God or Jesus into our hearts. God has been there all along. Now ask yourself, “Do I seriously want to know this presence that is within me without invitation? Do I want to be in relationship with God? Is God is safe to trust, loves us as we’re told?” First we need to know God to love God. Knowing God requires a leap of faith – an act of will and trust. To grow in relationship with God – to more deeply experience God, we commit ourselves to serious Bible study. We take time daily to listen for God’s spirit more than telling God stuff. We commit to be with others faithfully in worship each week, share our stories of God’s presence in our lives, support and pray for others, and through spiritual disciplines like stewardship, realize that our gratitude to God is expressed with our gifts for the good of others. As we more and more inhabit God’s life – God inhabits ours. God is gently transforming us into people ready to love others. Love for God is personal, for sure, but never private. Love is seen by action in our community and in the world – We act in love to others as an expression of our love to God.

Here’s where loving God gets messy. We love God with as an act of will not just our emotions. We don’t wait until we feel like, or someone treats us nicely. We decide we will love others unconditionally. We’ll fall short, but we keep trying. As we grow in God’s love, we love God in return by acting with love toward others, just as we know God loves us. We pray for their well-being, even enemies, those who wish us harm, and those we don’t like. We listen carefully and gently to others without trying to fix them. We can admit when we are wrong, and don’t need to defend ourselves. We own up. We confess. We make amends. We speak truth in love, and encourage the best in others. We respect the dignity of everyone. We love God by showing compassion to those who need it and love to those who are made to think they don’t deserve God’s love. It’s as simple as a person who recently lost a loved one, spending time listening to someone who is about to lose a love one. Others love God by telling His story when asked – and inviting others to inhabit God’s life – because they are filled with love for God, not fear of punishment if they don’t. By our actions we show and know our love for God.

Wanting to fulfill all the law and prophets is probably not as high a priority for us as for those in Jesus’ day.  It boils down to this: “all we need is love,” as the old Beatles song says – for God whose love, when the channels are open, flows into loving acts for one other. Faith – keeping the commands, in the end is about relationships – and if we get relationships right, the rest will fall into place nicely.

In this world we can be assured of two things – death and taxes. And when death comes, let’s pray taxes won’t follow us into eternity. If when you arrive in the next world, and get handed a tax bill – you may not have arrived where you hope you’d be. In today’s gospel two groups come to ask Jesus a tax question. For Herodians and Pharisees to stand side-by-side is like President Obama and the tea party agreeing on anything. But that day it happened. And the issue wasn’t taxes. The issue is finding a way to get rid of Jesus.

We probably know more about Pharisees than Herodians. Pharisees strictly keep the law and prophets and expect others to do the same. They detest Roman occupation, especially having to pay taxes to the emperor. Herodians are a priestly branch of Jews who toady up to Rome. They get tax breaks and good appointments in exchange for supporting Caesar. Today these two enemies play on the same team.

“Jesus you are so sincere, so truthful, so right about God – impartial (yadda, yadda, yadda). So tell us, is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor or not?” If Jesus says, “Yes,” showing any hint of supporting Caesar’s tax code, his loyal followers go off to find a more suitable Messiah. If Jesus says, “No” – the Herodians will turn him in to the authorities for treason. Clever child of God that he is, he asks for a tax coin. Someone hands him one. Trap – to carry a Roman coin in your pocket, let alone bring it into the Temple is blasphemy. The reason – the tax coin bears Caesar’s image, inscribed, “Son of god.” Jesus has competition – the emperor. “Let’s see – whose image is this?” “It’s the emperor,” they answer. “Well, then give him what is his, and give God what’s God’s,” Amazed and done in, they walk off. But Jesus hasn’t really answered their question – he won’t.

What do you think Jesus means – give Caesar what’s his, and God his? What is Caesar’s and what is God’s? Can we separate the sacred from the secular? What do you think? Maybe Jesus is dividing up Caesar’s realm, or not. We do need governments for certain things, but Caesars don’t just sit on thrones in Rome long ago. Caesar still wants our taxes. So do we support Caesar’s realm by paying taxes, and support God with our tithe, time and talent? Jesus doesn’t answer. He leaves that to us to decide. Personally, I recommend we keep paying our taxes – regardless.

By refusing to answer their question, Jesus raises a larger issue. To whom do we belong? Caesar can demand our coins. Yet Caesar doesn’t own us. Caesar can demand our allegiance, but won’t own our hearts. God marks what He owns with his image. And guess what bears God’s image? Everything – we are made in God’s image, along with Caesars, and presidents, kings and rulers, and all the powers and principalities of our day, wealthy CEO’s, maids and janitors, those with jobs and those looking for them. We are God’s. No one – nothing else defines who we are – unless we let it – not our fears, our failures, our addictions to success and winning. Even our economy, political potentates, liberals, conservatives, Wall Street-ers and Tea Partiers finally are judged by a cross and empty tomb.

Knowing we belong to God shapes decisions we make in all areas of our lives. For instance, how as Christians do we spend our money? What do we keep for ourselves and give to God? We face these questions not just in the season where we ask people to give and make pledges, but every day. Caesar will get his due, just as in Jesus’ day. It’s this second realm where we make decisions – God’s reign. Yet, even in the church we are reluctant to talk about where and how we spend most of our time, talent and treasure.

We belong to God – not Caesar. As bearers of God’s image, we love all others as God loves us. God comes to us in Jesus to serve, heal, redeem, forgive, and win our hearts, minds and souls with love, kindness, and mercy. That’s how we aspire to live. God renders all to us – never forsaking us. And even when we do forsake him, God still keeps a light on for us.

In these days when we are inundated with fear of scarcity, life imploding, remember the God who marks us beloved, secure in abundant love. Caesar, life’s circumstances have an important impact in this world. Yet in the midst of it all, remember God is our eternal security. We are marked as Christ’s own forever. Always remember whose you are – and where you home is. The question I ask myself out of this text, “What image do others see in me? I hope that occasionally, at least, they catch a glimpse of God in me.

Sermon
The Rev. Dr. C. Steven Teague, Rector
Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost

Call me socially insecure, but I would hate to show up wearing shorts, a Lady Gaga t-shirt and flip flops when everyone else is wearing a suit and tie, or cocktail dress. I do notice these things – what others are wearing. So I wonder what’s up with the fellow at the wedding feast. Doesn’t he notice he’s out of place? I wish Jesus hadn’t said some of the things he did. All the killing, city burning, and throwing a poor shmuck into outer darkness because someone isn’t dressed right doesn’t exactly fit my image of God.

A little background: In Jesus’ day a king provided festive garments for their guests to wear at a wedding banquet. The fellow tossed into the dark dumpster of weeping and teeth gnashing must have refused to dress for the party. At least he came as invited when others didn’t – that’s to his credit. But it turns out that being at this party takes more than showing up.

Here we are. We come each week to rehearse for life in a kingdom to come. Showing up is the first step. You do understand why you’re here – and you are dressed appropriately for where you are today right?

It’s not the clothes we actually wear to church that matters – contrary to what I was taught in my early years. In my home church, we learned you honor God by wearing your best to church. I was told God doesn’t care for jeans or shorts in His house, and you’d better wear socks or hose. “Remember the guy who didn’t dress up for the wedding party? You don’t want to get ejected, too.” Mom meant it – but later I learned Jesus didn’t mean it that way. I suspect he’s glad we show up.

We can get a little nervous about a king like this one – especially if we think the king equals God. But don’t go there. Keep the big picture in mind. The big picture is that God is serious about the party He throws. Everyone’s invited – the good and bad. Some refuse. The king’s mad so we can see how much he wants us to share His joy. It’s a literary device – an extreme. Granted he may need Prozac – but Matthew is saying, listen up. This is important. Pay attention here. When my mom wanted my attention, she never used her quiet, impassionate, churchy voice. She yelled and scared me. But I also know she wanted what she thought was best for me. God’s that way. No one needs be left out – that’s the point here. If we choose to stay away, we become as good as dead – not literally – but dead to what we’ve been made for. We’ll live in darkness, fear, and misery. This is serious. So when we see how generous, loving and forgiving God is – well, that’s the Spirit inviting us to the wedding feast. So respond by accepting the invite. We know God isn’t really like this king – or at least we hope He’s not.

God invites us to share His joy – but unlike this king, God is patient. It’s all over the gospels – God is like a shepherd who looks for one lost sheep. Like the prodigal’s dad, God waits for us to come home. Like the woman who loses, searches for, finds her lost dime and rejoices God won’t lose us. Everyone matters and is included. Keep in mind an image of a God who doesn’t give up on us. We may not realize we’re given an invitation. It’s not a once and done deal – offered and rescinded if initially rejected. God is patient with us – and wants us all to be His party. Maybe we don’t even think of church as a foretaste outpost of a feast and party. Maybe church is more boring – or a chore to come to. We forget where we are sometimes – a banquet, a feast, a party. We can make it dull, but God doesn’t. People do sometimes want to be here, like when their lives fall apart; when they are scared; when death takes a loved one; and even in times of joy – filled with gratitude, they don’t know where else to go. So – come on in to the party. And make sure you try on the party clothes – when you walk in the door.

Our wedding garments are hand-me-downs from above, from on high. At this party we are clothed in a new life – wed to Jesus, the bridegroom. We get our new clothes at baptism. It may take awhile for us to grow into them.

What do we look like in our party duds? We look like people who respect everyone else’s dignity; we care for others and give up resentments; we love one another generously with no strings attached. We show mercy, justice and unlimited kindness. We don’t just come to the party – stand around and sip champagne. Clothed from above we will feed the hungry, house the homeless, care for the sick, and stand with those who’ve lost their jobs, their homes, and their hope. And we keep coming week after week because we understand how generous and loving God is and we want nothing more but to grow into clothes of God’s kingdom life.

Belonging to a church doesn’t automatically qualify us to stay at God’s party. We must dress differently – clothed from above – intoxicated with divine love, revelers in divine joy. So, ask yourself: “Am I having fun yet? Can I live with hope and laughter even in the midst of pain and sometimes trouble? Can I trust that somehow everything works out, even when I don’t see how?” Step inside – hear the music, sip the wine, put on the garb of God’s life for you, and know you have a place in the heavenly conga line. With God it’s party time. Don’t miss it.

“It’s been a busy week,” not in Lake Wobegon, as Garrison Keillor would say, but in Jerusalem. Let’s step back and set the stage a bit. On Sunday Jesus rides into town on a donkey. The crowds hail him Messiah and that sets the clergy on edge. Later he has an episode in the Temple, upturns cash registers, cleans house and gets in big trouble. Chief priests and elders show up for his lecture today, not to listen and learn, but to question his “religious cred.” And they should. It’s their business. They are the guardians of faith. He’s an unauthorized street preacher, stepping onto their turf with an unauthorized version of God. Tricky – whose truth will they trust?

Have you ever been challenged by someone who already knows the answer to their question? No matter what you say, your answer is wrong, even if you’re right. Today we call this Congress. Jesus tosses a curve ball to his critics: “Did John’s baptism originate from heaven or humans?” Trapped – and fearing public backlash for either answer, they pretend ignorance: “We can’t really say.” “Since you don’t know, I won’t answer.” Then Jesus launches a barbed missile wrapped in a parable.

“What do you think?” he asks them. A father tells his two sons to go work in his vineyard. One refuses, but later goes; the second says, “Be glad to, Pops,” and keeps playing video games all day. “Now,” Jesus asks, “Which one fulfills the father’s will?” And into the trap they fall: “Well, the first.” And Jesus replies: “Tax collectors and prostitutes go into the kingdom ahead of you. John told you to repent. You didn’t. Tax collectors and prostitutes trusted him and did. Your minds were shut tight. And now you’d believe an answer I would give you? Right.” Jesus calls them to face his truth. They turn and leave, off to go plot his consequences.

What do you think? Or maybe Jesus could ask us, “Who do you trust?” Those who were outcasts and ne’er do wells placed their bets on John the Baptist. Religion had told them “No” so often, they had no use for God’s people. Yet they trust John, repent, get baptized and fulfill the Father’s will. God’s squad, who says Yes to God, says No to John and God’s gracious invitation to all. No turning in a new direction for them. They’re tight with God already they figure: keep oil in the Temple lamps, make sacrifices, collect offerings, and keep folks in line, and think that fulfills the Father’s will. Listen carefully – Jesus doesn’t bar them from the kingdom. They just won’t lead the parade. Outcasts will. And that burns them up. That’s the scandal of the gospel. That’s how grace works in God’s kingdom. Not all are happy that everyone falls under the judgment of grace. They want it for themselves. They’ve earned it – just not willing to extend it to others who haven’t.

I wonder if we, the church fail to fulfill the Father’s will. We don’t talk much about repentance anymore – and that’s the clergy’s fault. Do we really listen and then do the Father’s will? We hear what God asks, say yes, and somewhere we stop checking to see if we are doing as God asks.

What is the Father’s will? Believe Jesus – nothing more. Believe Jesus and trust Jesus is right when he says you and I are forgiven, reconciled to God, raised to new life – and renamed Beloved of God. We cannot earn, deserve, or lose it. We just say Yes – trust Jesus believe we are loved without deserving, and then do something with that love – like giving it away to everyone, even those who don’t deserve to be loved. Take God’s grace and do the grateful thing – like passing it along; love God enough to hang out with Him each day; when we call Jesus Lord, let him be. We can say yes here, and forget what we’ve said by the time we walk out the door.

But grace will sneak up on us. Here’s how it could happen. We’ve come to church, left our minds elsewhere – only to taste bread and wine, and miraculously experience divine love pouring through Jesus into us. Now we know where we are – in God’s presence. God’s gone missing in our thoughts during the day, until in the evening we see a full moon beaming across the lake, and we think “God” and smile. We see someone we won’t speak to, and suddenly realize loving someone as God loves us means we speak, even if we don’t want to. These are little gifts, grace notes, and moments sneak up on us, causing us to be grateful, and we think, “God” and smile. That’s Jesus raising us to new life.

God keeps calling us to go work his vineyard and we continually say yes. Now, what will we really do? Are we out working the vineyard of our friends, our neighborhoods, those in need – or playing video games? We do want to fulfill the Father’s will. That is why we are here, right? So let’s get on out to the vineyard – to reconcile all to God, to love, forgive and accept such grace freely given – and do the Father’s will. Spread the good news.

After the service, a parishioner offered his unsolicited feedback to my sermon: “What do you know about running a business anyway? Paying workers that way is not fair. Just stick to religion and preaching, but not preaching about business.” He’s right. Pay a person a full-day wage for an hour of work, and you’ll be out of business in no time. Next time the unemployed see you drive the bus up, guess how many pass and wait for the day’s last bus? The problem with Jesus’ story – It’s not fair. You don’t reward people who don’t pull their own load.

Five times this vintner drives into town for hired hands one day. First we learn he plans poorly. Did he not know at the beginning what he’d need? And then who’d be sitting on the curb at the end of the day? They’re losers, the leftovers – those who’ll work long enough for a six-pack or pack of cigarettes. Maybe he’s the one with a business knowledge shortage.

The owner’s offering a good wage – $240 or about $20 an hour. They day ends and the whistle blows to signal quitting time. Everyone gathers around the foreman to receive his pay. The owner tells him to start with the ones who worked the least. They open their envelopes, expecting $20 for their hour, only to find they’ve earned $240 in cash – a full day’s pay. Word spreads like a wildfire: “$240 an hour? Let’s see. I came at noon. That’s about $1450.” And those who came at daybreak say, “Wow, $2900.” But as more envelopes are handed around, a different word sounds. Everyone gets the same $240. My critic’s right. This is no way to run a business.

If this is what the Kingdom of God is like, why not wait until last bus, and earn the same reward as those who’ve been at it from the beginning? Seems to encourage laziness if you ask me. Does this imply God may not be fair? For instance, you are the hard workers in the kingdom. We get here early. We come to church when we’d rather be doing other things. We serve on committees, weed the church yard, and serve food to the hungry, give our money. And somebody walks in at the last minute – and God rewards them same as us. That doesn’t seem fair. Life is unfair, but surely not God. God fixes injustices, rewards the faithful. We deserve better. This is a joke. Can’t you hear all the whooping and laughter coming from the 5 o’clock folks – and the grumbling and cussing from the early starters? “It’s not fair.” And the owner sharply tells them: “You agreed to your pay and you’ve received it. It’s my money – my choice. Are you envious because I am generous? Leave now.”

Where we place ourselves in this story determines whether we’ll grumble and cuss, or whoop and holler for joy. If you believe you worked all day, the story will sound different. You may feel like you’re being cheated. If you are down in the dumps, un- or under-employed, behind on bills, moving toward foreclosure and fresh out of hope, Jesus’ business plan sounds like great news. According to Jesus, “Get happy fast. God doesn’t put up those who begrudge his crazy generosity. The grumpy greedy go to the back, replaced by those who get rewarded for just showing up.” Got that – it’s not fair, is it?

I think we’re better off, though, to let God be in charge, even if we can’t understand. In God’s kingdom, all of us make out far better than we have earned or deserved. I suspect many good Christians won’t think we are the last hired – I mean we are here. Yet by acting as if we’re shortchanged, and angry that God is so unfairly generous, we set ourselves outside God’s vision of a new kingdom.

God’s way of doing business doesn’t make sense in our business of profits, bonuses, bottom lines, tax loopholes and all. So which kingdom do we choose? Can we celebrate God’s generosity? That’s the question. If we follow Jesus’ word, then we’ll be drinking wine, eating cheese cake, and prime rib – congratulating everyone – those who should have gotten less and those who should have gotten more. That’s life in the kingdom. So rejoice always! We won’t get what we earn. God love us much more than that. That’s good news that holds us and we are to share with all. And it’s darn tough to do in today’s world, where the vision is: “You should get what you earn.”

“I don’t understand. This makes no sense,” my friend says. “I know.” “It’s called grace,” I said. “God loves us all beyond our deserving, and I don’t understand why either. I do know you can’t earn what you’ve already been given. And you get it, whether you understand it or not. So accept it, and live it.”

Grace just doesn’t make sense, does it? Thank God. According to Jesus heaven’s party has already begun – here on earth, among us. Everybody gets full pay. Therefore, rejoice, and don’t leave yourself in the dark.