Forgive and Forget. Not.

Thirteenth Sunday of Pentecost
Matthew 18:21-35
September 11, 2011

1Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” ²²Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.


I found out about it on the bus.

On that late summer morning 10 years ago, I was on a bus heading towards work. I had graduated from seminary the previous May and was getting ready to do my 9 month experience in Clinical Pastoral Education in a week. As the bus made its way past the University of Minnesota and towards downtown Minneapolis I heard the news about a plane hitting the World Trade Center. I didn't think much about it, at first. I thought about the incident in the closing days of World War II when a military plane crashed into the Empire State Building and thought it was just a small plane that got lost.

But we now know that what happened on September 11, 2001 was not just a little event. Hell opened up and swallowed us whole on that day.

It's interesting that the gospel text this Sunday is about forgiveness. It seems like an odd that on the day we remember the horror that took place in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania, we are faced with a question: how many times can we forgive?

How do we forgive when someone offends us?  How do we deal when someone is hurtful to us?  How do we learn to "forget" the other's sin?

God calls us to be a people who are forgiving, but it's hard to be forgiving in a world where people hijack airplanes and drive them into buildings. 

Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Webber notes in her blog post on the lectionary text that the ability to forgive is not in our human nature and she's right.  The natural response to being hurt is to not forgive, to not forget.  We want to remember our hurt and we want to lash back. Forgiveness is not about being moral, it is supernatural.

Jesus calls us to being a loving and forgiving people.  God call us to be a people that doesn't remember people's sin.  But the fact is, we fall short and with good reason.  We can't forget that hurt and we want to hurt back. 

It's only in Christ that we can forgive and love. 

We can't forget September 11.  We can't forget the hurts that we are dealt in life.  We can't do it.  We just can't.

But because we are forgiven through Christ, we can forgive and live as a forgiven people. 

So on this Sunday when we stop to remember the past, let us also remember we are forgiven, give thanks and then live in that forgiveness.

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Coming to a Church Near You

Tenth Sunday of Pentecost
Exodus 1:8-2:10
Romans 12:1-8
August 21, 2011

The two Bible passages that I am commenting on this week (I will also be preaching this Sunday) has me thinking about movies. It always seems that there are folks who only like the big summer blockbuster movie with mega budgets. On the other side, there are those who only seem to like small, independent movies. I tend to like both kinds of movies. I love the big films with awesome sound and special effects and I love the small films that tell a story and leave the moviegoer thinking about life.

The passage in Exodus is definitely that start of a big budget film. There's a larger than life villian in the Pharoah, the plucky young women who defy the Pharoah's order and a baby is saved from destructions. You can even here the anthemic music score.

(Of course, a big-budget film was made on Moses, the Pharoah and the Israelities.)

On the other hand, the Romans text feels like an independent film. The story is less grandiose and more personal and intimate. If music is a part of the film, it happens to be one piano playing a sparse tune.

The beginning of Exodus feels big, because that's the point. The whole point of the book of Exodus is about God working to free God's people. The crafty midwives were they people whom God worked through to thwart Pharoah's plans. Exodus makes the point that God will work to say "No" to the devil's themes.

As David Lose remarks, there is a lot that can be used by faith communities in this text. But in someways, it still feels so out of touch from the common church person. After all, we aren't dealing with a genocidal leader.

That's where Romans come in. Paul's letter to the Christians in Rome is far more personal and far more practical. In this letter we find Paul telling his fellow followers to constantly offer their whole lives as a sacrifice to God. He urges the Romans and by extension, us to live lives that are not conformed to the ways of the world, but to be shaped by God, to be transformed following God's ways.

Shiprah and Puah model this kind of transformation. They are not conformed to the ways of Pharoah, and instead choose to follow God's way- saving the Hebrew boys from destruction.

In our daily lives, we probably won't face a homocidal king. But, we are called to live and work in a different way as follower of Jesus. How do we offer ourselves as a living sacrifice to God?

There is a woman at my church who recently celebrated her 90th birthday. She was the woman who was instrumental in starting a prayer shawl ministry at our church and has even given the shawls at times, even though she has trouble getting to church these days.

This woman, and all the members of the prayer shawl ministry are being transformed by God, using yarn and knitting needles to bring comfort to people.

The challenge this week is how we can live as God would want us to live. How are we being transformed by God? How are we offering worship to God?

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Fit for a Dog

Ninth Sunday After Pentecost
Matthew 15:10-28
August 14, 2011

The following is a sermon I gave in 2008. This gospel text is probably the most challenging in the Gospels and it's one that I like to tackle.

During my freshman and sophomore years in high school, I was on the cross country team. I enjoyed distance running, but I wasn’t the best at it. God might have graced me with perserverance, but God didn’t give me the gift of swiftness. In many of the smaller meets, I was usually bringing up the rear.

One day during my freshman year, we my high school had a meeting with another high school in the suburbs. We went out to a local golf course to run the race. As usual, I was in last place, steady running along the rolling hills of the golf course.

At some point, I started hearing voices. At first I think I thought it was someone cheering me on, despite being last. But the voices weren’t friendly, instead they were very menacing voices. At the edge of a cul de sac were several youths, maybe at the most a few years old than I was. They were hurling racial slurs at me, calling me names that I can’t say in a family setting.

I was shocked by the slurs, but kept on running. It made no sense to let them get to me, so I kept the legs pumping, while they kept heaping insult upon insult. At some point, another member of my high school’s cross country team, who also was African American, ran to my aid. He had already finished the race and swiftly ran to confront the teens. From what I was told, all he did was simply look at them, which must have been enough to call off their racial slurs.

After I finished the race, many of the parents who were there watching the race, were shocked at what had happened and asked if I was okay. I was, but I had been rudely reminded of my parent’s admonition that there would be people who might not like me simply because of my color. My father, having grown up in Jim Crow Louisiana was well aware of this. I learned that day, that even though we have come a long way as a nation in race relations, there were always going to be people who would treat others horribly simply because of how the appear.

Today’s gospel reading is difficult, if not confusing to hear. We are used to a Jesus that is welcoming of everyone and yet here we see a Jesus that is not very nice, not very nice at all. Jesus seems to look like a hypocrite and a bigot all in one.

The passage begins with Jesus talking about his nemesis, the Pharisees. He tells the crowds that it is not what someone puts in their mouths that defiles, but what is in that person’s heart that makes someone unclean. He takes direct aim at the religious leaders, telling them that it is not following rules that makes a person righteous, but their heart, their intentions, that matter. This is all classical Jesus, sticking it to the self-righteous among him that cared more for following the law, than they did in helping their brother or sister.

And yet, all this seems forgotten in the next part of the passage. He is in region of Tyre, when a woman, who was not Jewish, came up to him frantically. She is desparate to have Jesus heal her daughter who was tormented by a demon. What was Jesus’ reaction? Well, at first he ignored her. Then the disciples told him to send her away.

Jesus responds, but it seems that he is still not paying any mind to this woman. “I have come only for the lost sheep of Israel,” he responds. No Gentiles need apply.

The woman pushes further and gets in front of Jesus and drops to the ground. “Lord, help me,” she says. She seems to know that this Jesus could heal her daughter and knew this was her only hope.

Jesus finally speaks to her and says, “It isn’t right to take the food meant for the children and give it to dogs.”

Ouch. Now, some scholars think that the term “dogs” here meant a more playful term, like “Puppies.” But it would seem rather callous for Jesus to be playing with the woman, when her daughter was gravely ill. Other scholars say that calling someone a dog was a derogatory term, in the same way that another word referring to a female dog is used as a derogatory term today.

So here we have Jesus, the Son of God, the one who broke barriers to welcome everyone, showing a sense of prejudice to a fellow human being.

No one would blame the woman for walking away, but instead of doing that, she pushes back with a witty response worthy of Shakesphere. “Yes, but even the dogs get what is left by the children at the table.”

For some reason, this shocks Jesus and he realized the woman’s faith. She was no longer a foreigner, but a woman of great faith. The woman came home to find her daughter healed.

So what is this story ultimately about? Is it about race? Is it about inclusion? Well, on one level it is about that, but there is another undercurrent going on here. It’s all about faith and placing our faith in God even when it seems that God has no faith in us.

The Pharisees placed their faith in their correct following of religious practice. But Jesus exposes that as a sham, because someone can be good at practicing the faith and still be a rotten person. During the time of slavery and later Jim Crow, there were many white Christians who were stead churchgoers and took their faith seriously and still treated their black sisters and brothers like dirt.

The Gentile woman, on the other hand, placed her faith in God. For all we know, she may have not worshipped the God of Israel, but she knew that this God could heal her daughter and that this man, Jesus would heal her daughter. So, she was bold in asking and never took no for an answer.

What does this all have to do with this faith community here in the early 21st century?

Everything.

Like the Pharisees, we can place our hope in things other than God. We can place our hope in our traditions, in our bank accounts and in our buildings. Or, we can be like the woman, who had faith even when the road seemed dark and with out hope. The woman’s faith was bold, daring, audacious, willing to break boundaries. She believed in a God that would heal her daughter and knew, knew, that Jesus would heal her loved one.

This sermon could have been one where I simply said that we should be more welcoming to people who are different. It would have been a perfect “After School Special” kind of sermon. But I don’t think we are simply asked to be nice to others, but to live in faith and open up the doors, welcoming others regardless of who they are, not because it’s the nice thing to do, but because it is we believe, with our whole hearts, that the Jesus who healed the Cannanite woman’s daughter, is one that welcomes someone regardless of the race or sexual orientation.

But there is even another message that we need to hear. The fact is, we are the dogs. We are not part of the children of Israel. We are outsiders. And yet, we can come boldly before God in faith because even the dogs receive God’s blessings.

I’m not much of a dog person. I’ve always loved cats and I’m the proud servant of two cats. (If you have cats, you understand why I said I’m a servant.) Some of my friends do have dogs. What I’ve noticed is how faithful dogs are to their companions and to others that they meet. I remember one day when I met up with two of my friends. Along with them, was one of their dogs, a large Rottweiler. Now these dogs have a reputation for being big, scary dogs, but this dog was incredibly friendly and decided to lick me.... a lot. This dog showed love and acceptance. Not unlike the woman who was once called a dog.

We will face a world where we will be shut out for whatever reason. But we have faith in a God that knows no boundaries and is with us, to the end of the age. Amen.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Dream On

Seventh Sunday After Pentecost A
August 7, 2011
 Genesis 37:1-4 and 12-28

Note: The following is my attempt at adapting a curriculum originally intended for youth to an adult audience.  You find out about the project here.

Beginning with chapter 37 until the end of the book of Genesis, the story focuses mainly on one person, Joseph. You might have heard the story of Joseph as a kid and over the last few years, you might have even a seen a production of the Broadway play, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.

Here's the Story, of man named Jacob...

This first part of the story of Joseph will deal with something many might find familiar: the rivalries that take place within families. As we read the text, keep in mind this question: where is God in all of this?

Jacob settled in the land where his father had lived as an alien, the land of Canaan. ²This is the story of the family of Jacob.

Joseph, being seventeen years old, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; he was a helper to the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives; and Joseph brought a bad report of them to their father. ³Now Israel loved Joseph more than any other of his children, because he was the son of his old age; and he had made him a long robe with sleeves.^*4But when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him.

-Genesis 37:1-4 (NRSV)

Our story opens with Jacob and his sons. Joseph is one of the "babies" of the family and tends to chores close to home instead of shepherding the flock with his older bothers.

Now, it's quite common for a child to ask their parents if they love them or their sister/brother more. The parent will say that they love each child equally. You won't find that story in today's text. Jacob played favorites with his children, and Joseph was his number one son. Because he was the number one son, he got a special garment- a "long robe with sleeves," the Bible says.

A word about the special coat. It was a very fancy coat, one that set someone apart from manual labor. In popular culture, the coat is described as one of "many colors." In reality, some translations note the coat was an ornamental coat and others talk about a multi-colored coat. Either way, it was really nice coat that signified Joseph was special- which is something that really bothered his brothers.

The text never said if Joseph knew that he was the favorite, but one could guess that he did and made sure his brothers did too.

None of this endeared Joseph to his brothers. They couldn't stand him. Now in most families, it quite normal to have some sibling rivalries. But as we saw with Cain and Abel, when brother feud in the Bible, it can sometimes get a little out of hand as we shall see.

5 Once Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers, they hated him even more. ⁶He said to them, ‘Listen to this dream that I dreamed. ⁷There we were, binding sheaves in the field. Suddenly my sheaf rose and stood upright; then your sheaves gathered around it, and bowed down to my sheaf.’ ⁸His brothers said to him, ‘Are you indeed to reign over us? Are you indeed to have dominion over us?’ So they hated him even more because of his dreams and his words.

9 He had another dream, and told it to his brothers, saying, ‘Look, I have had another dream: the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me.’ ¹⁰But when he told it to his father and to his brothers, his father rebuked him, and said to him, ‘What kind of dream is this that you have had? Shall we indeed come, I and your mother and your brothers, and bow to the ground before you?’ ¹¹So his brothers were jealous of him, but his father kept the matter in mind.

Genesis 37:5-11 (NRSV)

In this passage, we find out that Joseph has a special talent: deciphering dreams. His parlor trick will come in handy later in our story, but right now all it does is bug his brothers (and his parents). What do you think Joseph was thinking as he interpreted his own dream?

For his brothers, this was the last straw. It was time to do something. It was time to get Joseph out of the way. Permanently.

So Joseph went after his brothers, and found them at Dothan. ¹⁸They saw him from a distance, and before he came near to them, they conspired to kill him. ¹⁹They said to one another, ‘Here comes this dreamer. ²⁰Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; then we shall say that a wild animal has devoured him, and we shall see what will become of his dreams.’ ²¹But when Reuben heard it, he delivered him out of their hands, saying, ‘Let us not take his life.’ ²²Reuben said to them, ‘Shed no blood; throw him into this pit here in the wilderness, but lay no hand on him’—that he might rescue him out of their hand and restore him to his father. ²³So when Joseph came to his brothers, they stripped him of his robe, the long robe with sleeves^* that he wore; ²⁴and they took him and threw him into a pit. The pit was empty; there was no water in it.

-Genesis 37:17-24

"Here comes this dreamer." In those days, dreamers were considered Very Important People- until they died. So, Joseph's brothers were looking forward to getting rid of this dreamer who was an annoying pest.

But two older brothers had their wits about them. Rueben knew there was no way the brothers could cover up killing Joseph. So, he persuaded them to put in Joseph in a pit which is exactly what they do.

²⁶Then Judah said to his brothers, ‘What profit is there if we kill our brother and conceal his blood? ²⁷Come, let us sell him to the Ishmaelites, and not lay our hands on him, for he is our brother, our own flesh.’ And his brothers agreed.

-Genesis 37:26-27

For whatever reason, Rueben leaves the scene. The other brothers sit down to eat and after a while, traders come by. Judah decides that the whole let's-kill-our-brother idea just wasn't going to work out. But, Judah says, maybe we could sell our "dear brother" into slavery!

And so for $20 they sold Joseph to the traders and off Joe went to Egypt.

³⁴Then Jacob tore his garments, and put sackcloth on his loins, and mourned for his son for many days. ³⁵All his sons and all his daughters sought to comfort him; but he refused to be comforted, and said, ‘No, I shall go down to Sheol to my son, mourning.’

-Genesis 37:34-35

Joseph was now out of the picture. Rueben, who had planned to get his brother out of the pit when the others weren't looking, returns to find out that Joseph had been bought and sold. The brothers scheme to find a way to explain why Joseph was gone. They took Joe's nice coat, tore it up, splattered it with blood and ran to Jacob telling their father that his beloved son had died.

Jacob was beside himself in grief. His favorite son was dead.

Questions:

• How do you respond to people who act like they are better than you?
• Have you ever said something like Joseph did to his family?
• Is it OK to want to do better than others in your family?
• Is it OK to tell them?
• How would you feel if you were a sibling of the boy Joseph?

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

...and You're Still Here

Genesis 32:22-31
Seventh Sunday After Pentecost A
July 31, 2011

Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket; and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, ‘Let me go, for the day is breaking.’ But Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go, unless you bless me.’ So he said to him, ‘What is your name?’ And he said, ‘Jacob.’

There's a song by Alanis Morrisette called "Everything." This came out long after her ginormous success with her "Jagged Little Pill" album, but the song is no less powerful. The song starts off with a shocking statement: "I can be a a**h**e of the grandest kind." It starts off basically saying that the person in the song can be a big jerk and they know it.

After that shocking opening, the chorus then moves on:

You see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can't relate
And you're still here

And you're still here. Amazing.

Jacob is wrestling with some unknown person. It's a big time in his life; he's getting ready to meet his estranged brother Esau, who is not that happy to see him. Jacob had tricked his dear brother, stealing both the birthright and their father's blessing. Jacob is stressed about meeting his brother and the night before the big meeting, he ends up having to wrestle.

For whatever reason, these two wrestle all night. At some point the unknown man struck Jacob's hip causing it to go out of joint. The man might have thought that should be the end of that, but Jacob held on. Finally, the man asked for Jacob to let go. But Jacob wants a blessing. The man asks for Jacob's name and Jacob gives it. The man then gives Jacob a new name: Israel.

It was in this scene that Jacob's past and future meet. Jacob was basically a cheat. He cheated his brother, he cheated his father-in-law, he tricked his father. Jacob was not an upstanding person.

Kathryn Schifferdecker explains:

My colleague, David Lose, says, "Law and Gospel is all about naming reality. It's about telling the truth, twice. First we hear the difficult truth of our brokenness, our fears, (and) our sins. And then we hear the good and gracious news about God's response to our condition, for Christ's sake, no matter what."

David uses this story in Genesis 32 as one example of Law and Gospel, of "telling the truth twice." God asks Jacob's name, and he says "Jacob." (The name "Jacob" is derived from the Hebrew word for "heel" and has the connotation of "supplanting" or "cheating.") And that name encompasses the truth of who and what Jacob has been—a supplanter, a cheater, a liar, one who lied to his blind father and stole his brother's blessing, one who had to run for his life and go into exile, one who struggled for twenty years with his father-in-law Laban, deceiving and being deceived. That's the Law, the hard truth of who Jacob was and is.

But then God gives Jacob a new name: Israel. And this is the truth of who Jacob is becoming, a new man, the father of a new nation. Traces of the old Jacob will remain, but he has matured from the callow youth he once was.

I think we like to think of this passage one where Jacob (and the rest of us) wrestle with God. But what if this is also about how God wrestles with us?

God knew who Jacob was. God knew Jacob's less then stellar past. And yet, God blesses Jacob and gives him a new name. God was still there.

God would continue to wrestle with Israel, not just the man, but the nation that bared his name. But God remained, staying in love with God's people even when they spurned God.

The point to remember here is that God is continually wrestling with us. God knows of our own less-than-stellar past. And yet God is still there with us, blessing us and loving us.

And you're still here. Amazing.

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Better Living Through Grace

Fourth Sunday After Pentecost A
Matthew 13:1-23

As a kid, I would love going to garden shops. I remember there was an old Frank's Nursery not far from my house and I'd love to into the garden area and take in all the sights, sounds and smells. To this day, I have a great fondness for going into the garden areas of a Home Depot or Lowe's.

With this love comes a bit of heartache, because I'm not a good gardener.

It's not like I try. I will go to a store and by some plants and I try to water them as often as possible and they end up looking like I had done nothing to them. The brown thumb strikes again.

Last year was like previous years, I had bought a few plants and took care of them. I gave them plant food, checked all the proper websites on how to take care of prennials and still the plants looked like...well, it's another word for fertilizer.

But this spring, something happened: I started to see green shoots. I realized that even though I thought I did a terrible job taking care of plants, here were several examples of growth. Through spring and into summer, the plants have grown and some have even bloomed. It seems like in spite of what I've done, these plants grew into visions of beauty.

When I realized that this Sunday was the Sunday of the Parable of the Sower, I started looking at past sermons. I remember preaching a sermon six years ago about how I started to look at this parable from Jesus differently. You see, this story was one of my least favorite and I'm someone that loves the Parables of Jesus. It puts me back in college, where my campus pastor would talk about what kind of soil we are and how we need to be good soil. The passage always left me with sadness, because I thought I could never measure up.

I will let my younger self take it from there. Here's part of the sermon I preached on July 10, 2005:

Today’s gospel text is about a sower who throws his seed hither and yon, landing on different types of soil. We then see how the soil takes to the seed. There are some good results and some bad results. Now when I was younger, I remember how the pastor or teacher would focus on all the different soils. We would spend time figuring out how the different soils related to the spiritual temperment of the different people. Some people worried to much, some didn’t take the good news seriously and some were good adherents of the Word. The message here was that we needed to be good soil and work on not being bad soil to God’s word. For some reason, I can remember how I felt when we talked about this passage. There was a sense of dread. I mean, how could I ever be good soil? There was no way that I could be that perfect. I’m going to be honest with you: I didn’t want to even preach from this text today for the same reason.

Then I started to think about something. This is called the parable of the Sower, but we never really talk about this sower, who is God. We talk about us, but God gets the short shrift. Has anyone wondered just how incredibly wasteful a sower God is? I mean he is just throwing seeds everywhere, without any regards as to whether the seed grows or not. I know there are a lot of gardeners among us this evening and I know many of you would never, never do this. I mean, if we saw someone throwing seeds everywhere, on the lawn, on the sidewalk, on the parking lot, we would wonder about the wisdom of this person. And yet that is what God does. For those of you who come from farmer backgrounds, you know that seed is precious. A farmer takes care of their crops so that they can have a plentiful harvest. The farmer in this story was probably considered a poor, tenant farmer who has to have a good return to feed his family. Now with all this substandard farming practice, throwing seeds wherever they may go, you would probably think that this farmer would get a poor return.

You would be wrong.

The seeds that did fall on good soil produced a harvest beyond anyone’s expectations.

So what was Jesus getting at here? Well, it’s that God’s love is extravagant. It seems wasteful to some, showing love to those who might not love back. It seems even dangerous to others, showing love to those who are different or who are our enemies. Why would God waste God’s time on such people?

That is the message here. We all receive God’s love, no matter if we are deserving or not. Yes, some will ignore God’s love. But that’s not the issue; what’s important is that God gives love to everyone.

This message of extravagant abundance is out of place for us because we live in a world defined by scarcity. If you’ve filled up for gas recently, then you have some idea of what I’m talking about. If you are like me, then you’ve probably set up an IRA and/or 401k to prepare for retirement, again, because money is scarce and because Social Security can’t fund all of our golden years.

We live in a world where resources are scarce. That’s a reality. What is sad is that we allow this valid principle to seep into our faith. Love becomes conditional and limited. Followers of Christ decide who is worthy of God’s love and who is not. We open our churches to those who are acceptable and close it to those who are not. Better to now waste our precious seed on “bad soil.”

But while scarcity is an important part of the science of Economics, it has no place in faith. God’s love is abundant and is freely given to all-good and bad. In Isaiah 55, we are given a clue to God’s abundance when the prophet proclaims that all who are hungry and all who are thirsty can come to God. Don’t worry about money; because God will take care of you.

My prior understanding of this text was one where I had to do all the work. Be a “good Christian” and the seed planted within will grow. That is a gospel of works, of trying to do good things so that God will like you. The thing is, none of us will always be good soil. We are human; we sin. We are tempted by the things of the world. We worry about the future. There are always “weeds” that will interfere with our seeds.

But if this parable is about God, then it doesn’t matter as much about my condition. Through the good times and bad, God’s love is always present. In times when I’m a wonderful garden and in times when I’m a weed infested backlot, God always love me.

And that is how God’s people should be. Let us go out and love the world regardless of how good or bad people are. Let us throw open our churches and our hearts to people.

It's easy to look at this story and see it as a moral about how we have to be "good Christians." The problem is that as Russell Rathburn has said, that makes this story a tale about "works-righteousness" instead of the wonderful grace of God.

This might be a "low Sunday" for your congregation as many folks are on the highways and byways. But I hope you still take the care and the time to communicate the awesome love of God to those who do make it to church. If you look out into your congregation, there are probably a lot of folks feeling a lot of guilt. Maybe some of it is well-deserved, maybe some of it isn't. Either way, they also need to know that they are loved, loved by a God that loves extravagantly.

I always end this with my tagline "Go and be church." I mean that. Go and show people your love. Go in the power of the Spirit and love wastefully. Some of the seeds won't grow, and some will produce a bumper crop. The results don't matter as much as we show love...as we are loved by a big, lovable and relentless God.

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Take A Walk on the Wild Side

Second Sunday After Pentecost A
Genesis 22:1-18

After these things God tested Abraham. He said to him, ‘Abraham!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ 2He said, ‘Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt-offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.’
-Genesis 22:1-2

Take your son. Your only son, Issac. Whom. You. Love.

When I was younger, I remember hearing this story and being told this was a percursor to what would happen later in the New Testament where Christ as God's son became the sacrifice that set us free.

These days, I tend to focus on the whole concept of Abraham taking his son to be the sacrifice. It's something that makes you uncomfortable. To a modern reader like myself, it just seems wrong for Abe to even think that God would even request such a horrible thing. There is a temptation to just ignore this passage, frame it was one of those terrible "texts of terror" and just move on to a more pleasant text.

But the thing is, as unsettling as this story is, there is something here for us to learn about faith and about walking in faith.

The thing that is amazing (and disturbing) is that Abraham had faith in God.  He does what he has always done when God calls- respond.  He sets out to the place God tells him to go to with Issac.  He continues to believe God will provide and is ready and willing to raise the knife to slaughter his own son because he had faith in God.

Rick Morely tries to show how faith isn't as neat and tidy as we would like it to be- indeed, sometimes it can seem quite bizarre:

This story raises so many questions. Big questions. Questions about the kind of God that would ask this. About the kind of father who would hear this Voice in his head and follow it.

If this happened today Abraham would be arrested.

I think the ugly, tortured nature of this story was meant to be. I also think that there aren't any good answers to the hard questions that this story raises.

Because while this is an ugly story, it's really not about the ugliness. It's about the faith of Abraham who was willing to do whatever God asked him to to. For him there was no limit. And, it's about the faithfulness of God who ultimately provides, and which turns a tragic story a little less tragic.

The Akedah is one of those chapters of the Bible which reminds us all too well that we don't have a neat and tidy little religion that is country-club respectable in all ways at all times. 

Faith in God is always an odd thing.  I don't think it will lead these days to attempted murder, but it might lead us to places we never expected to be and doing things we never dreamed of doing.  This passage reminds us that the God we serve is not a safe God.  We follow a loving God and a good God, but never a safe God.

We also have to remember that faith is not simply following certain beliefs, but instead about trust.  We place our trust in God and that trust is lived out in our daily lives.  Rabbi David Ackerman sums this up nicely:

In Jewish culture, Avraham Avinu is the original "walking man." Two words bespeak this central motif of Abraham's life. Lekh l'kha, "Go forth," (or as I prefer, "Go take a hike," which I'll explain in a moment) is of course the divine command that begins Abraham's saga. The same phrase recurs in Parashat Va-yera as part of the demand that Abraham offer up his son Isaac as a sacrifice. Between those two imperatives to go take a hike, Abraham spends a lot of time on the road. Momentously, he leaves his homeland and his father's house in search of a new, and not precisely identified, land. He migrates to Egypt in response to a famine and returns only to take to the battlefield, just one of a series of adventures that keep him continually away from home. Abraham's peripatetic nature gives rise to a great deal of commentary down through the centuries, some favorable, some not...

Aviva Zornberg brilliantly describes Abraham's journeying as suggestive of "the full paradox of a vital quest, enacted in empirical randomness." He may not know exactly where he is headed, but he understands full well why he's headed there. And in this regard, Abraham is all of us; our lives in so many ways follow the same trajectory of purposeful, personal journeys, undertaken in unreliable circumstances, in search of uncertain results. And yet, we continue to walk...

Heschel's famous claim that marching for civil rights in Selma constituted "praying with his feet" is the direct descendent of this Hasidic ideal. We walk in search of opportunities to serve God, to improve the world, and thereby to worship.

I do think when we are called by God we are called to take a walk on the wild side, to quote Lou Reed.  It is a journey that doesn't always make sense, but it is a journey where we will meet God and be changed.  It won't be all tied up with a bow on top, but it will provide in ways we can't imagine.  We have faith in God and God has faith in us.

I don't have an easy suggestion for you all for the coming Sunday.  This passage wasn't made for that.  But I do ask that you look at the text a few times and ask your congregations to struggle with this passage.  Remind them that trusting God isn't easy or simple.  But also let them know this walk with God will not be boring.

Go and be church.

Illustration: Sacrifice of Isaac by Marc Chagall. Musee Nationaux Alpes-Maritimes (Nice).

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Pentecost Is A Question

Pentecost A
Numbers 11:24-30
Acts 2:1-21

When I first started serving at First Christian, there was no children's ministry at all.  None.  Over the years of dealing with declining membership, a large physical plant to maintain and a host of other issues taking care of the little ones came last.

That didn't set well with one of the members.  She has always loved being with children and was mad that nothing was going on.  As she recounts the story, she was complaining to me about why no one was doing anything about this and I responded, "So what are you going to do about it?"

It was after my moment of frankness that she started a children's program at the congregation, which in many cases was instrumental in helping the church revive itself.

Coming into Pentecost, I looked forward to this Sunday with both excitement and boredom. I love Pentecost because its such a joyous holiday, a time when pastors and worship leaders get to do something a bit different. I love that we get to wear red and usually the sanctuary is festooned with bright shades of red.

On the other hand, we tend to hear the same Pentecost text over and over again. At first blush, I wanted to just skip this text. It's been so overdone. David Lose kind of captures the "boredom" of the text:

Honestly, I suspect that we've heard the story of the wind and the tongues-of-flame and the dove and the crowds-hearing-the-sermon-in-their-own-languages just enough to believe that the promise of Pentecost is deliverance, celebration, victory, and strength. The signs of Pentecost, after all, are mighty. And what is the Holy Spirit if it is not God's own agent – the very Spirit of the resurrected Jesus – now on earth to accompany us with signs of wonder and power.

However, as the week progressed, this text kept coming back to me. I can't really describe why I am attracted to this text, again, but I am.

I think some of the points to consider as we re-read this text again is how disruptive the Spirit is. I don't think we realize just how much the Spirit turns the lives of the disciples of Jesus upside down. Look at what Peter starts talking about in this passage:

“In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

None of this sounds safe, does it?

Looking at the text from Numbers, we see that the Spirit touches some people who weren't authorized to be prophets. Joshua thinks something needs to be done to stop these people who were not accredited from prophesying. But Moses tells Josh to put a sock in it. "Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit on them!” he says.

Pentecost is in many ways a question.  We are asked to look back to see all the mighty deeds that God has done for God's people, to see how Jesus showed us God's love in his life, death and resurrection and to see the Holy Spirit descend in wind and flame.  We are asked to see all of this and ask, "So what are you going to do about it?"


As we worship in our churches this weekend, as preachers prepare to preach yet another sermon on the Acts text, we might want to ask our congregations the same question.  "So, what are you going to do about it?"

The "so what" for the disciples was that they started telling the story of Jesus all over the known world.  They didn't go back to their old lives, but forged ahead, being empowered and led by the Spirit to some new territory.

The wind, fire and the speaking of different languages is a pointed question to us.  What does all of this mean to you?  Does it affect you?  Does it change your life?

David Lose references one of my favorite political columnists, David Brooks, who wrote a worthwhile essay recently to today's college grads.  He told them to give up the recent obsession in our society to focus on the self, and to live for others:

Most successful young people don’t look inside and then plan a life. They look outside and find a problem, which summons their life. A relative suffers from Alzheimer’s and a young woman feels called to help cure that disease. A young man works under a miserable boss and must develop management skills so his department can function. Another young woman finds herself confronted by an opportunity she never thought of in a job category she never imagined. This wasn’t in her plans, but this is where she can make her contribution.

Most people don’t form a self and then lead a life. They are called by a problem, and the self is constructed gradually by their calling.

As Christians our lives are shaped by a calling; a calling from God, exemplified by Jesus and sent by the Holy Spirit. It is when we serve others, teaching children about God or befriending a person battling addiction that is when we begin to answer the question that is Pentecost, it when we do something about life in response to all the amazing acts God has done for us. For all of us.

So, what are you going to do about it?

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.