Reflection for Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Link to: Romans 12:9-21

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good.”

There are questions in our world that have no simple answer. These questions have long been on the hearts and minds of humans seeking to make sense of the world. Some questions (“Why is the sky blue?”) actually have quite simple answers, even though they represent a larger questioning of the world. Some questions (“What is good?” and “What is evil?”) are much more difficult to find answers for. Whatever the questions, we are a curious people, a unique creation that tries to understand its existence.

Our search for answers has led to a plethora of amazing discoveries and advances. We know what we are made of, and how. We know what causes many diseases and how to treat them. We have harnessed parts of the universe that we cannot even see, but we are able to use them to power our buildings, make telephone calls, watch television, and surf the internet.

And yet, for all our knowledge and scientific discoveries, there are still questions we ask, over and over again, and it seems there will never be answers to certain questions. Why do some cancers respond to treatment and others don’t? Why is forgiveness so hard? When will peace come to war-torn nations across the globe? Why does violence prevail as human response to fear? How can we respond when we see or hear of suffering so far away from us geographically, and yet so close to our hearts?

These are the times when preachers struggle to find words. We know we cannot find answers. I have watched these past summer as my preacher friends have passed around articles and thoughts, blog posts and news clippings, all trying to find ways to respond to the hurting in the world. Whether in the midst of the Ukraine/Crimea/Russia situation, or the Gaza/Israel/Palestine conflict, or the Fergusson, Missouri, violence and protests, preachers across the nation and across the globe have been trying for months to find answers to the human questions, to speak a message of faith and hope in the midst of the chaos of humanity.

It would be nice if the answer were as simple as Paul puts it in our reading from Romans: “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good.” At face value, those are simple words. But what is good? What is evil? Can we separate our hate for a set of actions from our Lord’s command to love our enemies?

So what, then, is the good news? Where is the hope?

Our hope is in Christ. Our trust is in the God who has led us to this place, who has given us a world that is scary at times, but is also the world of sunsets, families, and the internet. Our trust is in the promise of the one who says “I am with you until the end of the age.” Our hope is in the one who became human: the God who does not watch from afar, but who became one of us and walked among us and who loves us, no matter what, no matter when, no matter how.

God is love.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.

Reflection for Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Link to: Matthew 13:16-20

“But who do you say that I am?”

This question that Jesus asks in our gospel text reminds me of Moses’ encounter with God. When Moses first spoke with God, and was told by God to go to Egypt, Moses says, “Okay, I’ll go. But they may ask me who it is who is that has sent me. What is your name?” God replies, “I am who I am.”

Here in our gospel reading today, Jesus is asking the disciples who other people say that Jesus is. They give a variety of responses, none of which are who the disciples say that Jesus is. In response to “who do you say that I am,” Peter responds, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God.”

We may wonder why Jesus is asking these questions. Surely it isn’t vain curiosity, sort of a self-esteem boosting question. Rather, it is an opportunity for Jesus to find out what the result of his ministry has been. With all that he has been doing and saying, what do people think? Have they figured it out? And then he asks the disciples, to see if they have figure it out.

But then comes an oddity. Jesus commands the disciples not to tell anyone that he is the messiah. What? Why not?

Names have power. And names, labels, and titles, can be limited. They are simply another way that we humans have found to box each other into specific roles and categories. The people that Jesus has been encountering have a very specific idea of what “messiah” is and will be. And Jesus doesn’t fit this box. Indeed, God does not fit into any box that we build.

“I am who I am.” This name for God, this title, is the freest name for God that I know.

“I am who I am.” This title for God, this name, says it all: God is who God is. It is not for us to name God, to limit God, to put God into a box. Christ commands the disciples not to tell anyone that he is the messiah because their definitions of “messiah” are limiting: they are not who Jesus is. “I am who I am” is all that Jesus is.

How do we limit God? How do we limit Christ? What boxes have we put on these names, “God” and “Jesus” and “Christ,” and are we able to open our minds and hearts and see the amazing ways that the one who goes by the name “I am who I am” is always breaking out of our human boxes and surprising the whole universe?

God is who God is and not who we say that God is.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Reflection for Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Link to: Matthew 15:21-28

“Woman, great is your faith!”

These words come from Jesus after we have heard several weeks of readings relating to the variable faith of the disciples. First, they did not believe that a few loaves and fish could feed an entire crowd—and yet they did. Then, they trembled at the sight of Christ walking on water, and did not believe that it was him—and yet it was. Peter even challenged Jesus, and though he walked briefly on water, his doubts took hold and he began to sank.

Now we have the story of this woman, who was so sure of Jesus’ power, authority, and love, that she approaches him to ask for healing. When the disciples try to turn her away, she continues to push, continues to ask Jesus for help, trusting that he not only could, but would do so.

“Woman, great is your faith!”

We may wonder what we can do in order to have faith like this unnamed woman. What can we do, or say, to prove to the risen Christ that we are worthy of such an acclamation? How can we behave so that Christ will know of our faith?

Nothing.

There is nothing we can do. And while that may sound like bad news, it may seem disheartening, it is not. Because faith is not something that we do. Faith is not a human action. Faith is a gift of the Holy Spirit, given through the Word and through the waters of baptism. Faith is not our own.

When we are baptized, we are gifted with the Holy Spirit, with being claimed by our loving God. When we go through times in our lives when we struggle to believe, it is not because we have failed in some way, or because others around us have failed. When we find people that do not believe, it is not because we have failed them. There is nothing that we can do in order to receive faith ourselves, or to give it to others. It is a freely given gift of the Holy Spirit.

So what do we do when we struggle to believe? We pray. We ask others to pray for us. We demand of the Holy Spirit fulfillment of the promise of faith, the promise made to us in our baptisms, the promise we recount each in the creed when we profess that we believe in the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit gives us life and faith.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.