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News & Happenings2012 CALENDAR OF EVENTS
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Pastor Eric Fjeldal's April 2011 Sunday Sermons
Pastor Eric's sermons are presented here in reverse chronological order...in other words, the most recent sermons are at the top of the list, working backwards through time.
Easter Sunday, April 24. "The Easter Hook"
Matthew 28: 1-10
“Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee: there they will see me.” (Matthew 28:10). Matthew tells us these words were the words Jesus spoke to the women. For me they beautifully summarize what Easter is all about. They also explain why Easter does not hook us as I wish it would.
Matthew’s resurrection story is filled with extraordinary energy and power and it is done so for a reason.
Angels and earthquakes are the inevitable elements of the resurrection narrative, because
that is the only way Matthew can make clear that we are confronted with God’s possibilities
and not our own. (D. Cameron Murchison, Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol. 2 pg. 348)
The angel and earthquake strike overwhelming fear into the guards. They are shocked into a death like state. The angel seeks to reassure the women; telling them to be not afraid and come and see for themselves where Jesus lay, a past tense for he is no longer there. This is significant because
(t)he empty tomb is not a dispensable theological point for Matthew. It is not the main point,
but it is important. Without the empty tomb, resurrection theology reduces to a generalized capacity for goodness somehow to outlast and overcome evil. Such a resurrection hope is
only as powerful as the latest experience one may have with goodness hanging on against
such evil. In the grand sweep of human history, there is too much evidence to the contrary
to nurture hope in most of us. ((Murchison, pg. 348)
This is one reason why Easter does not grab us as I wish it would; for as David Lull states, Easter Day reminds that God is the source of our deepest hopes and desires, and not we ourselves. (processandfaith.org/lectionary, Easter Sunday) This message runs contrary to the one we are encouraged to live everyday which proclaims that we are to be the source of our deepest hopes and desires.
We hear the angel’s message “fear not” and we process it knowing there is much to fear and worry about. We know too well things go wrong and that we need to be on guard, so we don’t trust the advice “to be not afraid.” It sounds hollow and empty, disingenuous. The Easter message has authority because it doesn’t deny the reality that we do have fears. It doesn’t try to minimize life’s struggles, sorrows and pain.
When the angel says, “Do not be afraid,” it is not the assurance that everything turns out
for the best, because if we are honest about it, it seldom does. Rather, it is the assurance
that, whatever may happen to us, whatever a day may hold, God has the power to strengthen
us and uphold us; that whatever we must face, we do not face it alone; that nothing we
encounter is stronger than God’s love; that ultimately God gets the last word; that in the
end – and sometimes even before the end – God’s love is triumphant. Only God can offer
such assurance, and that is why in the end, only God, or one of God’s messengers, can say,
“Do not be afraid,” and say it with authority.
(Martin B. Copehhaver, Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol. 2 pg. 348-350)
Galilee was where Jesus began.
(T)he place where his ministry, which embodied the dawning reign of God, had been lived
out – where he called Disciples, taught the crowds, healed the sick, appointed the Twelve,
showed compassion on the suffering, offered the weary rest, spoke in parables, fed the
multitudes, blessed the children, challenged a rich man, and taught about a Messiah who
would suffer. (Murchison, pg.350)
When we are lost, confused, afraid, we know the value of returning to the beginning; going back to the basics, back to our roots. For Matthew this is an important message. Galilee provides an opportunity for the disciples to in some way regroup; but it is more. Part of this more is theological.
The theological point of telling the disciples to meet him in Galilee is thus straightforward:
the risen Jesus is expected in the places of his once and future ministry, in all those places
of grace-full endeavor, where healing, feeding, teaching, and even suffering are undertaken
in his company. (Murchison)
Returning to Galilee also reminds us that God’s work is not done. As David Lull states:
Galilee was also the place from which the disciples were to launch their mission to
“all the nations”, just as Jesus had launched his mission.
Jesus’ resurrection makes no sense apart from his death. If we read Jesus’ death
as an integral part of his life, it is possible to read Jesus’ resurrection as God’s response
to Jesus’ life of faithful service to God’s justice on ‘earth as it is in heaven.’ (T)he risen
Jesus’ missionary charge to his followers (including us) is to continue his engagement
with the “powers”, even and especially, powers of death in all their forms: economic
preferential treatment for the rich, imperial occupation and domination, ecological
exploitation, and so on. Resurrection is God’s vindication of Jesus and his cause, and confirmation of his authority. In short, Matthew’s Easter message is a promise and a
challenge: Go and continue God’s mission, proclaiming God’s justice on earth as in
heaven, for God is with you – with, in and through the risen Jesus!
(processand faith.org/lectionary, Easter Sunday)
Is it any wonder Easter does not hook us? It calls us to look at our lives in ways that challenge us to change and this makes us afraid. Amid the call to look at our lives and the fear accompanying this call, there is hope; a hope that comes from God, which if we allow it can and will sustain us. It is the same hope the angel shared with the women; the same hope that allows the disciples to return to Galilee. It is a hope that tells us:
that whatever we must face, we do not face it alone;
that nothing we encounter is stronger than God’s love;
that ultimately God gets the last word;
that in the end- and sometimes even before the end –
God’s love is triumphant.
(Copenhaven)
God promises that if we embrace this hope, Easter will hook us; deepening what we already know, and sustaining us as we venture forth to discover what is yet to be revealed. So hear the invitation:
Despite your fear; go… go to Galilee;
for there you will encounter the living Christ…
there you will experience healing, redeeming love
and the new life only God can offer!
Palm Sunday, April 17. "They Praise Me Today, But..."
Matthew 21: 1-11
When I think about Palm Sunday I cannot help but imagine as Jesus rides into Jerusalem he is sadly saying to himself, “They Praise me today, but…” because Jesus knows what is going to happen. He also knows as much as he and his followers may want it to be different, it won’t be. The odds are stacked against him; not because “God intended him to die ‘for us’, but because Jesus mission – his ‘first passion’, so to speak, was to proclaim God’s justice on earth as it is in heaven.” (David Lull, processand faith.org/lectionary) Sadly much of the world then and still today is unwilling or unable to hear that message. All they can do is shout “save us, save me.”
Matthew unlike the other Gospels does not reference palm branches, but for Matthew, Jesus rides in on both a donkey and a colt. This distinction is important. For Matthew, this reemphasizes Jesus as the prince of peace; one who comes in sharp contrast to Caesar and the Roman army. As David Lull writes:
(H)is triumphal entry into Jerusalem was a parody of the Roman’s triumphant entry
into Jerusalem. It was an anti-war demonstration, a challenge to imperial justice, a
proclamation of God’s justice “on earth as in heaven!”
To keep peace during Passover, Roman armies entered Jerusalem in a show of force,
parading the military might of the empire. The Gospels picture Jesus entering the city
with anti-military and anti-imperial symbols. Following the imagery in Zechariah 9:9
literally, Matthew has Jesus ride into Jerusalem, mounted rodeo-style on two steeds,
a donkey and a colt. The message is clear: Jesus is the scripture’s promise of a humble,
anti-war “king!” The imperial army proclaimed the divine right of the Caesars to rule
the world. Jesus proclaimed God is the ruler of the world.
(David Lull, processandfaith.org/lectionary)
By calling Jesus a prophet and shouting “Hosanna”, the crowd recognizes Jesus as the fulfillment of the Jewish messianic expectation. What they cannot agree on is what this messianic expectation is.
Some in the crowd are hoping that Jesus will start a revolution to overthrow the Roman occupational forces and its collaborators. It is widely believed that Judas falls into this camp. These folks do not seek a peaceful king; they desire a violent overthrow which punishes the Romans the way they have been punished. Jesus already knows that although today they call him a prophet, they will in just a few days shout, “crucify him.”
Others do not understand that while Jesus proclaimed a kingdom that is to be revealed in the here and now as well as some future event, it is not a political kingdom in the way these folks thought or hoped it would be. While they were not violent, still they wanted Rome gone, so again Jesus knows they will desert and deny him and shout “crucify.”
Jesus is clearly proclaiming that God is the ruler of the world and that God does not rule the way governments, empires and earthly kings rule. The Caesar’s of this world rule through economic and military domination, while the kingdom Jesus came to proclaim is one of justice and mercy and is made known through God’s healing, redeeming love. God’s rule is different. Gentleness, humility, peaceableness, mercy and self-giving acts of generosity and compassion are marks of God’s domain.
(James O. Duke, Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol. 2 pg. 154-56). Matthew reminds us of this with the story that comes right before today’s triumphant entry where Jesus restores sight to two blind men; and the story that follows, where Jesus protests the use of the temple to harbor robbers of the poor. (David Lull, processandfaith.org/lectionary)
Jesus also knows well the threat he is to temple authorities. Throughout his ministry Jesus has been at odds with them. They wish to maintain the status quo as those in power also do; Jesus wants change. Jesus knows this week it will all come to a head. The cries of the powerless threatened to upset the delicate balance of power and the temple authorities found themselves in a bind.
Their freedom to maintain law and order in Jerusalem depended on the benevolence
of the Roman imperial authorities. As was their practice in every province within the
empire, Roman authorities depended on these local temple officials to maintain law
and order. If they failed, Roman armies would step in with brutal force. Jesus’ Jewish
opponents were doing what they needed to do to maintain law and order and to keep
Rome from stepping in to nip a potential insurgence in the bud. They did not believe
they had any alternative. (David Lull, processandfaith.org/lectionary)
Of course they did have an alternative. Jesus had been proclaiming and modeling it. They could not embrace it. Sadly neither can or do we, not fully.
As we enter Holy Week, what is our messianic expectation? Are we shouting “Hosanna” because we want God to save us, to ensure our place in heaven; or does our celebration include the call to work for God’s justice on earth as it is in heaven? Will we join the prophet Jesus in proclaiming, it is God who rules the world? Our answer matters. Our answer determines whether or not Jesus, as he rides by will sadly say of us, “They Praise me today, but…”
April 10. "Beyond Achievement"
Romans 8:6-11
This morning’s passage from Romans can be confusing and lead to questions such as:
By “flesh” does Paul mean our physical bodies?
To be spiritual are we to deny or ignore our physical needs?
Is our body an obstacle to developing a spiritual life?
Is the Christian life incompatible with a material life?
The answer to this last question is not at all.
The Christian life is a material life. ‘Setting our mind on the Spirit’ (v.6) is not about an
attempt to put our bodies on the side somehow and concentrate on the inner life of faith.
Paul’s contrast between Spirit and flesh in this passage is not to be understood as a contrast between soul and body or between spirituality and sensuality. Life ‘in the Spirit’ refers,
among other things, to a way of conducting a bodily life: it is manifested in how we use our physical energies and our material resources, how we care for our neighbors and our
planet. When ‘the Spirit of God dwells in (us)’ (v.9), our corporeal lives, in all their
concreteness and messiness, become expressions and instruments of God’s grace and peace.
(Amy Plantinga Pau, Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol. 2, pg. 134)
Paul reminds us that one’s attitude or mindset is what is important.
‘The mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God’ (v.7). For Paul, (t)he fleshy mind-set
attempts to live in denial of God’s creating and sustaining grace, instead seeking life and meaning in our own desires and accomplishments. It is a form of idolatry, setting
ourselves up as lords of our own lives. (Pau, pg. 134)
A contributing factor to the confusion often associated with this passage is Paul’s worldview. Because Paul lived in a dual world he places this issue in the context of “either-or”. The problem is we live in a world of grey; a “both-and” world in which
(I)ronically, ‘the mind that is set on the flesh’ can sometimes produce a life of upstanding morality and outward virtue. As David Kelsey has argued, ‘living in trust that our lives
are justified by what we do in accord with standards of excellence lies at the very heart
of sin (what Paul refers to as death). What we do sinfully need not even be immoral;
even if what we do is morally good, it is sin if we trust the doing of it to show that our
lives are worth living. Boasting about our virtue is likewise a sign of our failure to submit
to ‘the law of the Spirit’. The person who prides herself on giving up the delights of the
flesh for Lent is exhibiting the fleshy mind-set, living in hostility to God’s free grace.
(Pau, pg. 134-36)
Setting our mind on the flesh means living a worldview which focuses on “me and mine.” It looks at the world in terms of what we “get” and how we “look”, as we believe we need no one and are accountable to only ourselves. This causes us to hoard instead of share and leads to our being closed instead of open as we live a life where our world shrinks instead of expanding.
The emphasis of our culture and world is more and more on the “flesh” and whether we recognize it or not this reality impacts us. The message of self-indulgence and extravagance are such a part of our cultural DNA that most times we don’t recognize how they encourage us to believe life is all about the illusion of success. This illusion runs contrary to God’s will for our lives as it sets our “mind on the flesh” and leads to our death. This death is not in terms of some future resurrection after we die. It is a death that we experience now as we live our lives today increasingly detached and alienated from God, our neighbor and ourselves. Our Wednesday Lenten studies are reading a book entitled Longing For Enough in a Culture of More. In it the author Paul Escamilla writes:
The illusion of self-generated success often carries with it certain attitudes of detachment.
If I have made my own way through life, then my need for and accountability to God or
others is dismissible. Furthermore, if I don’t need God or others, then neither do God or
others have any claim on me.
(Paul Escamilla, Longing For Enough in a Culture of More, pg. 21)
Amid all of this we hear Paul’s proclamation “to set our mind on the Spirit is life and peace” (v.6) which means trusting in and living a life that affirms God’s presence; one that recognizes and affirms our interdependence. It means having a genuine concern for others regardless of any personal gain. This leads to our sharing instead of hoarding, our being open to new ideas and a willingness to dialog. The result, our worldview is ever expanding, not shrinking, which leads to a profound understanding of hope, which comes from God and has nothing to do with optimism or self-help jargon. William Sloane Coffin said it this way: Hope comes from God and has nothing to do with optimism. The opposite of hope is not pessimism it is despair. (Credo, pg. 19) Despair leads to death of the spirit and a focus on the flesh.
Paul’s use of the term “flesh” may still cause some confusion and lead to questions like those I raised at the beginning of the sermon. Attempting to clarify the confusion, Douglas Travis writes:
Flesh is not simply material existence. ‘What Paul means by flesh in this passage is
not the essence of the body but a life which is carnal and worldly, serving self-indulgence
and extravagance to the full.
In short, the problem is not flesh but the misuse of flesh, of our creaturely existence.
Such misuse of flesh is a function of putting oneself, rather than God, in the center of the universe. In light of this, probably the best term to convey what Paul means when he uses
the word ‘flesh’ is ‘ego,’ defined in a pejorative sense to mean self-centered, self-focused.
Hence we could understand verse 9 to say, ‘You are not in the ego; you are in the Spirit,
since the Spirit of God dwells in you.’
For postmodern Americans enmeshed in a consumerist culture that encourages the satisfaction of every desire – a culture in which the highest good is often deemed to be
self-esteem- this can seem a harsh message indeed. In truth, it is a message of great hope.
The ‘self’ matters! After all, Jesus died for all people and all people are individuals.
However, Jesus died that his followers might become who they truly are, who God created
them to be. One does not become one’s true self by limiting the focus of his universe to
what the ego – the ‘I’- can create, determine and control. Rather one becomes one’s true
self by turning her will and life over to the care of God.
(Douglas Travis, Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol.2, pg. 137-139)
As we continue our Lenten journey moving ever closer to the cross my hope is that we may trust more fully in the invitation to turn our lives over to the care of God; that we may discover the healing hope already offered by “he who raised Christ from the dead (who) will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you. (Romans 8:11). Doing so will allow us to come to understand that it is possible to set our “mind on the Spirit” despite living in a culture that “sets its mind on the flesh” and in so doing come to know the life and peace that is greater than any we can on our own acquire or achieve.
April 3. "Am Blind and Want To See."
John 9: 1-41
(Scripture Story told as part of the Sermon)
While Jesus and his disciples were traveling they came upon a man who was born blind. The disciples asked Jesus whose fault it was; as they believed it needed to be someone’s fault, either the man’s or his parent’s. Jesus responds by saying it is no one’s fault, but that Jesus could use this as an opportunity to show the wonder of God’s healing, transforming love. Then Jesus heals the man. He spat on the ground making mud which he rubbed on the man’s eyes. Jesus then told the man to go and wash in the pool of Siloam, which means sent. The man did and he could see!
The man’s neighbors who had seen him begging asked, “Isn’t this the man who was blind?” They weren’t really sure. It looked like the man, but the man they knew had been blind, so maybe it wasn’t. They asked the man what happened and he told them. The neighbors brought the man to see the Pharisees, who debated whether or not Jesus was sent from God. Jesus had performed this miracle on the Sabbath so the Pharisees reasoned he could not be from God; yet the miracle indicated otherwise. The Pharisees asked the man born blind what he thought. He called Jesus a prophet.
The Pharisees didn’t believe the man so they went to his parents. His parents out of fear did not want to be involved, so they responded by saying their son was an adult and could answer for himself. The Pharisees go back to the man who responds that he was blind but now he sees. The Pharisees ask him again and the man responds, probably sarcastically, by asking the Pharisees if they wish to follow Jesus. The Pharisees respond with anger and drive the man out.
Jesus hears this and finds the man. Jesus tells the man who he, Jesus is, “The Son of Man.” Jesus then makes reference that sometimes those who think they see are blind. The Pharisees ask Jesus if he is talking about them. Jesus doesn’t answer.
This story is about more than a healing. It is about what happens when people don’t expect things to be different; and while it is easy and convenient to point to the Pharisees and accuse them of being blind, let us remember that those who were with the man everyday did not, or could not, or would not recognize him. They had to ask each other, “is it him?” and quickly assumed it could not be him, simply because he did not look like what they expected.
How often are we guilty of exactly the same thing? Our blindness is apparent when we don’t believe people or situations can change or make assumptions about people and situations. It is apparent when we believe we know what someone else is thinking or feeling; when we believe that something must be someone’s fault and then look for or create someone or thing to blame. We are blind when we assume it will always be the same old same old because we don’t really trust that God’s love can heal and transform us or the situation in which we find ourselves. In these and other ways those whom we encounter can attest that there is much we don’t see and even more we don’t understand. All of which leads to estrangement and even more blindness as we further separate and disconnect from God, our neighbor and ourselves.
Joan Chittister has said, “The vision of a culture lies in what becomes its major institutions, in what it remembers as its most impacting events, in who it sees as its heroes.” I believe this is true of us as individuals as well as communities of faith. This is why what we choose to hold onto determines not just what we see, but also how well we see, not just what is, but what could be. This is why we need to make our peace with our own blindness, because the more we try to deny it or fight it, the more it blinds us. The more we affirm the words, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.” (John 9:41)
What Brennan Manning said is true. “To be alive is to be broken; to be broken is to stand in the need of grace.” Another way to say this is found in our opening hymn. “Open my eyes that I may see glimpses of truth thou hast for me.” Our blindness is inevitable. It is part of the human condition and until we accept our need for God’s healing touch, we will never be healed. We will never see the glimpses of truth God has for us. Accepting this and accepting our need for grace allows us to begin to see more clearly. It allows us to begin to look at life differently; to in some way come to expect things to be different.
Our blindness need not be permanent. This is the hope found in today’s story. God’s love and grace can wash away that which blinds us; not just once, continually, as many times as is needed. We need God to continually open our eyes because our blindness is not a one-time event. It is on-going. Situations and the accompanying emotions, attitudes, biases and prejudices continually arise that cause us to struggle with seeing. This is why we need to continually stay open to God’s healing touch; that we might begin living the words “am blind and want to see”. For in so doing we will spend less time trying to prove that we can see and more time affirming that seeing is believing; as we discover what God’s healing love is doing in your life, my life and our life together. Amen.
