Chapter, Verse, and Jesus

John 3:14-21

Let’s talk for a moment about chapter and verse. None of the books of the Bible were written with chapters and verses, neither the epistles (letters), the histories, the prophets, or the gospels. Each work was a scroll or set of papyri that flowed. Not only were there not chapters and verses, but neither biblical Hebrew nor biblical Greek have capital letters or punctuation. Better still, biblical Hebrew doesn’t have vowels. 

No capital letters, no punctuation, and sometimes no vowels. This means that when the Holy Spirit guided the first person who wrote down the stories that were circulating orally, they knew what they meant. And the people around them did as well, but after 2-3 generations translators, readers, and copiers are making their best educated guess. Line breaks were used after the scriptures were codified to make reading easier, but a line break was still a guide and an interpretation.

Chapter separations that we would recognize came into being in the very early 1200s, with the purposes being to set the passages to be read aloud to gatherings of monks and nuns (and others). This is why the informal gathering space (as opposed to the sanctuary) in many European cathedrals is called the chapter house. 

The Wycliffe Bible of 1382 used these chapter divisions and so did most Bible afterward. This means that the Bibles of Martin Luther’s childhood, in the late 1400s and early 1500s, most likely had chapter divisions. (These Bibles were, of course, still written in Latin.) 

In the mid-1400s, a rabbi named Nathan created verse divisions for the Hebrew Bible, or what we sometimes call the Old Testament. In the 1550s, a Swiss printer named Robert Estienne created a numbering system for the New Testament. In Estienne’s printed Bibles, both in Latin and in the local languages, the rabbi’s numbering system and his own were combined to produce scriptures with chapter and verse divisions. 

You all know that I like to give you a little history, but you would be entirely within your rights to be wondering why I’m telling you all this. Why does this matter? Why should you care? You ask such good questions. 

The reason this matters is because, if we consider Christianity to be almost two thousand years old, not only did it take a long time for the scriptures to be translated into common language, but chapters and verses happened even after that. This means that no one who we consider critical to the formation of the early church, or the spread of the gospel had any concept of John 3:16. While they were adept at quoting parts of scripture, they had a strong sense of that quote being part of a whole larger point, as opposed to one small point that stood on its own. Drawing a tiny scriptural point away from its context would not have made sense as a tool for evangelism, debate perhaps, but not as a way to draw people to the love and presence of God. 

Thus, for most of Christian history, what we consider one of the most famous verses in scripture didn’t stand alone. For God so loved the world that He gave the only begotten Son that whosoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life was part of a whole story. This line comes in the middle of a conversation Jesus is having with a Pharisee. Nicodemus, the Jewish leader, comes to Jesus at night, under cover of the shadows, to ask questions about what Jesus is teaching. 

Jesus explains the concept of the Holy Spirit and of a spiritual rebirth. He speaks of how we see the movement of the wind and its work, even when we don’t see the wind itself. (This is a concept easily understood by people in Montana.) As Nicodemus continues to ask questions, Jesus draws Nicodemus’s attention away from his internal confusion and concern to a view beyond himself. He will never understand enough if he keeps looking inside, but must let his eyes be drawn to the One in front of him, the one who whose very life, and then resurrection and ascension, drew eyes toward God. 

Jesus reminds Nicodemus when people in the desert were being bitten by snakes. God instructed Moses to wrap a snake on a pole. When people were bitten, they were to look up from their wounds, their pain, and their confusion to this sign- sent from the One who had brought them into freedom and was leading them with promise. Looking up, with hope and trust, gave them healing. 

While chapters and verses are helpful for references, they come with the same dangers as the biting snakes and paralyzing doubts. (Not all doubts are paralyzing, just some.) Chapters and verses draw our attention down, to small points, taken out of context, with very little to no sense of the whole story. And the whole story matters because it is the story of God. The story of God and creation. The story of God and other spiritual beings. The story of God and people. The story of God in Jesus. The story of what God has done, is doing, and will do. The whole of the story matters. 

Part of the reason that John 3:16 is popular is because, for many people, it gives an essence of the whole story. I get that. You probably understand that. John 3:16 is meaningful to us because we already have a sense of the whole story, but for the person seeing a John 3:16 sign at a football game or on a billboard or a bumper sticker, if they don’t know what it means already, looking it up doesn’t actually give them any information. 

Almost all of you have been in church for years and yet I know most of you are hesitant to ask questions. And you’re for sure hesitant to answer questions because you don’t like to feel or appear like you don’t know the answer. How much more do you think that applies to someone who finally decides to look up John 3:16? 

For God so loved the world- who is this God? Where is this God from? What does this God’s love look like? What world? Just the people? Everything I can see? What about space? 

He sent his Son- Where did this Son come from? Is he like a comic book hero? What are the Son’s powers? 

That whoever believes in him- What does it mean to believe? What if I have more questions? What if I can’t believe? Does God wait until I believe to do the God-things? Is God’s love dependent on me believing? 

Shall not perish but have everlasting life- Does that mean “not die”? Doesn’t everyone die? What is everlasting life? Would I wander the planet getting older and older? 

Those are all the questions that only come from one verse, if you are a person who has truly never encountered the verse before. And let me be clear, there is not a flaw in a that verse. The flaw is in the idea of a single verse as an evangelism strategy. Even worse, the flaw is in the idea of a single verse, without context or relationship, as an evangelism strategy. 

Jesus doesn’t leave Nicodemus in the dark with a notecard with a verse citation. He talks with him. He listens to his questions. He uses references from the natural world and recalls stories that Nicodemus knows. An understanding of the saving love of God comes not from the specific words, but from the Living Word in the person of Jesus. 

This is exactly how we are called to share the love God has for the world, the love that is so great that it brought the Son into the world, not for condemnation, but so the world might be preserved, might have hope, might flourish through him. 

We don’t draw people from the ways of shadows, as described in this passage, by threats of hell. The Spirit draws them into the brightness of living in God through the light of God’s love shining within the people who are actively choosing daily trust in Christ. 

Perishing, in the context of John, isn’t about death the way we think of it. John’s most common phrase, used in 16/21 chapters, is “abide”- to remain or stay. Jesus, in John, is constantly inviting people into the brightness of God by asking them to abide with him, to stay with him, to remain with him- trusting his words, following his commandments, living according to his teaching. Perishing, then, is the opposite of abiding. It is the reality of feeling separated from the brightness of God, to feel a cloud between oneself and heavenly sunshine. 

The reality of this whole section of John is Jesus explaining to Nicodemus, and then John explaining to us, that perishing is not required. It does not have to be. If we are willing to look up, look to the One who is guiding us, who made us, who so loves the world- we will not perish. We will abide. Forever. 

Looking for that answer within ourselves, trying to make it happen for ourselves, will never work. Single verses and words give us an illusion of control- of the word and of God. The human desire for control makes us addicted to perishing, not because we love the idea of separation, but because we do not trust what we cannot see or prove. 

But you, like Nicodemus, can see what the wind can do. 

How much more can God, the source of all good things, the one who is revealed in the Son, the one who so loves the world, … How much more can God save us from perishing, providing with a place of abiding peace, consolation, and strength that we might be a part of the Divine will for healing the world? 

You know God will do it. You know God has done it. You know God is doing it. 

Psalm 107 says, “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so!” 

(This is your chance to call out a hearty “Amen”.)

Let the redeemed of the Lord say so. 

And how do we know we’re in that number? How do we know that God does indeed so love? How do we trust in such mercy, such grace, and such redemption. 

We trust it is so, beloved, because we’ve been told it. Again, and again. Chapter and verse and beyond. Amen.  

 

 

Amazing Grace, In History and Now (Sermon, Lent 4)

On New Year’s Day 1773, in Olney, England, the pastor of St. Peter and St. Paul Parish led a prayer meeting to mark the new year. As was expected of clergy at the time, this pastor wrote hymns and verses for his congregation to help communicate the faith, lift their spirits, and continue the tradition of the church to praise God in song. Most of the songs and chants in his day had no set tune but would fit any number of tunes with a common meter or rhythm. 

For this New Year’s Day, the parish pastor had written a set of verses he called “Faith’s Review and Expectation”. He felt that the occasion called for remembering all God had done and how God had delivered each person to the present. Reflection on the past and understanding the hand of God at work built the necessary trust in the Divine for the future. The pastor, one John Newton, began his hymn with a quotation from 1 Chronicles 17:16, Then King David went in and sat before the Lord, and he said: “Who am I, Lord God, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?

Newton’s use of singular pronouns and declaration of himself as a wretch in his new song was not unusual and, in fact, was part of what made him a relatable and popular parish priest. He often told stories about himself, and what he was like before his conversion to Christianity. He assured those who listened that he couldn’t begin to exaggerate the extent to which he swore, gambled, and drank. 

The extent of his sins, however, wasn’t limited to bad language and poor habits. His reflections on his pre-Christian life included regret for participating in the triangle trade, wherein finished goods were shipped from Europe to Africa and exchanged for enslaved people, who were then traded in the Americas for coffee and sugar. 

In 1788, 34 years after he had retired from the slave trade, Newton broke a long silence on the subject with the publication of a forceful pamphlet Thoughts Upon the Slave Trade, in which he described the horrific conditions of the slave ships, which he knew firsthand. He apologized for "a confession, which ... comes too late ... It will always be a subject of humiliating reflection to me, that I was once an active instrument in a business at which my heart now shudders." 

Newton’s conversion to Christianity took place on a merchant ship in 1748. He was caught, with others, in a terrible storm off the coast of Ireland. While manning the bilge pump to rid the ship of extra water for hours, he off-handedly spoke about the need for the Lord’s mercy if they were to survive. It was from this day forward that he began to read his Bible and study other Christian literature. 

Newton always marked that day as significant to his life of faith, but he didn’t believe that his true or complete conversion happened until later. He captained 3 separate voyages with enslaved persons as cargo in 1750, 1752, and 1753. He had a stroke in 1754 that kept him from captaining any more voyages, but he continued to invest in slaving operations for another four years. He wrote that he couldn’t consider himself a believer in the full sense of the word until a considerable time after his 1748 experience in the storm. 

For Newton, one couldn’t be fully a Christian without a full and recognizable practice of Christian living, discipline, and devotion. It was this attitude, not the song for which we know him, that made him a popular parish priest. In fact, after serving for 15 years in Olney, he was moved to a London parish where he served for almost 30 years. In that position, he was consulted by many social and political reformers, including those who sought to remove England from the slave trade. 

In England, Newton’s reputation is as an abolitionist, as well as a thoughtful advisor to important historical figures. In the United States, however, he became known more through his song, “Amazing Grace, How Sweet the Sound”, which was very popular in the religious Great Awakenings of the early 19th century. Amazing Grace, along with other songs in common meter, struck the right note between praise and personal piety, which was the sweet spot for the spiritual revivals. 

In the American South, singing preachers used the shape note tradition to teach music for congregational and social singing. Amazing Grace was a popular song and was matched with the now familiar tune “New Britain” in 1847 by William Walker in the songbook Southern Harmony. No one is certain of the origin of this tune, but it is particularly interesting because it makes use of the pentatonic scale- played on the black keys of the piano. Almost all songs we think of as African American or Black spirituals used the 5-note pentatonic scale, which goes way back in human history in use across the world and across world religions. 

In 1852, Harriet Beecher Stowe included a scene in which Tom, from Uncle Tom’s Cabin, sings verses of Amazing Grace during a time of deep crisis. As the daughter of a well-known preacher, Stowe likely went to many revivals and had heard and sung the hymn many times. Familiar with its power to strengthen faith’s hope and trust, she also included Tom singing the verse, “When we’ve been there ten thousand years.” This wasn’t in Newton’s original verses, but was a verse cribbed from the hymn “Jerusalem, My Happy Home”. Revival singing of hymns often mixed and matched verses, by Stowe’s inclusion of this verse in her very popular book linked it permanently with the hymn’s other lines. 

I could easily go on about the history of this hymn, since we’re not even to the American Civil War yet. (The hymn was included in hymnals for soldiers on both sides), but I want to give you more than a history lesson on a Sunday morning. 

While Amazing Grace may have started as a simple chanted verse for a small English congregation to mark a new year, its words and tune are now inextricably linked with abolition, with civil rights, with freedom, with community effort, with grief, and still with faithful hope in God’s provision and deliverance. 

Here's the thing I can’t stop thinking about: one of the people who consistently sought advice and guidance from John Newton was William Wilberforce. William Wilberforce entered British Parliament at the age of 21 in 1780. He was a man of great conscience and considered leaving Parliament to become a clergyman. John Newton encouraged him to serve God where he was, with the influence he had. Every year from 1789 until 1806, William Wilberforce entered a bill into Parliament to abolish the slave trade. The bill was finally passed in 1807. 

How many times was Wilberforce jeered at by his fellow parliamentarians? How often was his bill called “woke” or whatever word they used for “woke” at the time? How many lectures did he endure about the idea that businesses and the economy depended on the trading of human beings? How many times did people point out the verses wherein the Bible seems to "support" slavery or racial inequity? How many times did Wilberforce listen to people say “what about” while mentioning things they had no intention of changing? And now, they are just footnotes in his biographies, because he is the one worth remembering. 

Wilberforce fought on for what he believed in his heart was right, what he had been encouraged to do by a man who had spent some time on the wrong side of that argument and more time regretting what he had done regarding the slave trade. 

And here we are, in a time that is just as contentious as any other in history, celebrating the 250th anniversary of a song that speaks to the sweetness of God’s grace, the ongoing provision of Christ’s care, and the everlasting revelation of the Holy Spirit. If we are to sing this song with any integrity, we cannot simply admire its words and tune, but we must accept the power of its history and we must yield to what it may yet be compelling us to do today, for the sake of the One who has done so much for us. 

In one of his letters of guidance, John Newton wrote, “We often fail to see our present circumstances in the right perspective.” Let us seek, with the Spirit’s help, that right perspective that we may understand the work to which we have been called, the grace we have been given, and the love poured out for us and for all people, by the One who made and kept promises to David and who still finds the lost and causes the blind to see. 

Amen. 

Into Our Blind Spot

Fourth Sunday in Easter

John 10:1-10

It is a dangerous thing to preach about sheep to people who know more about sheep that you do. I’m not quite that dumb. I have nothing to say about ranching, sheering, lambing, or butchering. I won’t offer comment on fodder, spacing, or breeds. I do have a comment on sheep physiology, though. Even that is risky, but I did a lot of research (science reading, not theological) and I did attempt to talk to a couple people about my questions. 

Sheep have excellent vision- in their peripherals. Due to having eyes on the side of their heads, they can see things sneaking up on them from the right, left, and behind. This is called monocular vision, which means each eye has its own field of view and the eyes do not share a field of view. Binocular vision, what humans have, is when both eyes receive the same information at the same time- in the best of circumstances. 

Due to monocular vision, sheep can see to their sides and when they lower their heads to graze, they can see very well around them. However, monocular vision does sacrifice depth perception. This means sheep can have a small blind spot right in front of them, when their heads are raised. You may observe this if you see a sheep run into the fence instead of going through the empty gate. 

The author of Psalm 23 spent enough time with sheep to be able to perceive some of these realities of sheep physiology. Guiding sheep to green pastures not only meant taking sheep to fresh graze, but also guiding them over changes in terrain that might make them balky. Leading them beside still waters meant bringing them to safe places to drink. In a desert climate, stagnant water could create illness. A still pond, perhaps fed by a stream, could help thirsty sheep, but they might need to be watched if it was a deep pool. 

Monocular vision offers safety in the periphery, but as sheep evolved superior vision from side to side- they sacrificed vision that looks up. Since sheep have been domesticated for thousands of years, sheep haven’t often needed to look up into trees to watch for predators. Shepherds do that. This means that traveling through a valley needs the shepherd to be with the sheep because the sheep are not able to look up at the terrain where threats might be present. 

Shepherds were used as a metaphor for good kings in the Hebrew scriptures (Old Testament). Shepherds cared for an important resource- sheep. Shepherds provided for the needs of the sheep, kept them safe, and guided them through all kinds of weather and terrain. Thus, these seemed like transferable characteristics for a good king. This meant that the king’s people, then, became synonymous with sheep. While this metaphor has often meant associating people with the worst (often imagined) qualities of sheep, the whole purpose of the comparison was about the king, not the people. 

Jesus as the Good Shepherd, then, is not about us as sheep, but about who He is and what he does. We have binocular vision- seeing ahead of us. Yet, we also have a blind spot there. We do not know the future. Rather, we have to trust the shepherd who provides for our needs, guides us to safety, and accompanies us through treacherous times and places. This same shepherd seeks us out when we stray and guides us back to the fold. 

Trusting in Jesus’ voice and his provision is what it means to have abundant life. Unfortunately, many of us like the idea of trusting, but find the execution difficult. Following Jesus into our blind spot definitely means acknowledging that we are not in control. 

When we instead look to the sides, where there are many temptations, or back, to what we knew before, it is very tough to move forward in faith. Thus, the Church and church people often intellectualize faith- making it about “believing” the right things, meaning knowing the right information in your head. Jesus, however, has never described faithfulness in this way. Particularly in the Fourth Gospel (John), faith equals abiding with Jesus. This means pitching your tent in Jesus’ campsite and following his rules. It also means recognizing that the ways of the world do not offer you the abundant life- peace, joy, and grace- that can only come from the Good Shepherd who provides for your needs. 

In this time of change and stress, what we can see to the sides and behind us is often far more appealing that the unknown future. We are tempted by voices that promise things that seem to give a better sense of control or offer choices that open doors we wish weren’t closed. If we wish to be disciples of Jesus, to be the sheep of His flock, then we must weigh these voices against His voice. We must carefully compare what they offer us against what our good Shepherd offers. 

This way of living can be tough. It may put us at odds with others in our family, in our community, even in our church. Yet no one else in these settings offers us what Jesus does- provisions, safety, accompaniment, and guidance in all situations. The leading we need- into the blind spot of the future- should only be entrusted to a Shepherd who is willing to die for us (and who already has). 

Amen. 

God's Breath and God's Hands (Sermon)

John 20: 19-31

Let’s talk for a few minutes about the gospel according to John. The Fourth Gospel is very different from Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Those three together are called the “synoptic” gospels because they provide a synopsis of Jesus’ life. The writer of the Fourth Gospel, on the other hand, has selected some of the highlights of Jesus’ life and ministry and then shaped his narrative to be a parallel to the whole biblical story. 

John begins in the beginning, with the understanding that the Word (capital W) has always existed. It is through this Word that God brought all things into being. As the second member of the Trinity, on equal footing with the first and the third, the Word brings forth life. Eventually, that Word becomes flesh for the purposes of the salvation and faith of creation, including us. 

Now I confess to you, friends, that this line of conversation is very near and dear to me and I am tempted to go on about it, but I also recognize that in this time of stress, it may be better to get to the main point. Some of you might argue that it is always better to get to the main point and you’re not wrong. 

Since the beginning of John’s gospel is focused on creation, all things coming into being through the divine power in the Word, I want us to think about the creation accounts in Genesis. In Genesis 1, God makes human beings at the same time, in God’s own image. What is that image- creative, capable of great love, caring, merciful, judicious, connected? We have to prayerfully consider what God’s own work tells us about the divine in order to consider what it means for us to be made in the image of that same glory. 

In Genesis 2, God makes the earth and wants a caretaker for it. God then makes a dirt man, which is what A-dam means because it seems related to the Hebrew word “adamah”, which means earth (as in soil or dirt). God breathes life into this creation. Life begins, then, at God’s hands and with God’s own breath. 

Now back to John, who has set up a creation story in the Fourth Gospel narrative. All the disciples, except Thomas, are gathered in an upper room. They are afraid for their own lives. They know that Peter and the beloved disciple went to the tomb and found it empty. They’ve heard Mary Magdalene’s account of the risen Lord. Yet, they are still confused and terrified. Even if Mary is right, and they probably wondered about that, they are now worried about what this news will do to the people who killed Jesus and who may still be looking for them (the disciples). 

In the midst of this chaos, this void of hope, Jesus appears. He speaks to them and shows them his hands and his side. Then he breathes on them and speaks a word of peace. Jesus, who is God, comes among the disciples in an image they recognize and, through his hands and his breath, reshapes their experience. In that very room, Jesus crafts a new creation- fear into hope, doubt into trust, grief into joy. The Word present at the beginning of creation repeats that work in the upper room.  

Reshaping or re-creation does not bring new elements into being. It takes what is and reconfigures it into something new and useful, alongside what was. Our hope is made from the same building blacks as our fears; it is just used in a different way. The same with our doubts reframed into trust. The questions are not eliminated, but they are re-arranged to be a tool for our faith. Our grief remains a part of us, but in its resurrection reformation to joy, it becomes something we can live with- can hold a little more lightly. 

When Jesus comes into that room with the disciples, he does again for them (and then for us) what God the Holy Parent does at the very beginning of all things. Through Jesus, a new creation has happened- a world where death does not have the last word. God needs someone to work in that creation, to tend it, and to cause it to flourish. Jesus comes into a room, full of people- who are made in God’s image- and makes them new. 

With his hands and his breath, the disciples- all who were gathered in that room- have their fear, doubt, and grief reshaped into hope, trust, and joy. And then they are sent, just like the first man of the earth, to tend God’s garden with those tools. 

In his own time, Jesus does this same re-shaping for Thomas. Through Thomas’s story, Jesus promises to do the very same thing for those of us who are not in that room, but who receive the gift of faith. We too have been recreated, born again, through Jesus’ own hands (crucified, died, buried, and resurrected) and his breath, which brings to us God’s peace for our own hope, trust, and joy. 

We are in a time of our own upper room. There is much fear, doubt, and grief. Just like the disciples, there is good reason for those things. We are not irrational to have those thoughts or feelings. At the same time, we are also not alone in them. Where we are, with whatever we have, Jesus comes to us. He comes to us to bring us new life, again and again. Through his hands, through his breath, we are remade as disciples of resurrection truth. Our fear is reshaped to hope, our doubts to trust, and our griefs to joy. 

To those of you who might say, “I hear your words, but I am not experiencing that right now”, I believe you. And I understand that. I urge you, friends, if that is the case, to remember our brother, Thomas, who received this blessing in his own time. The absence of personal experience does not make truth untrue. It just means it hasn’t yet happened to you, but what is true is true, regardless of our experience or understanding. 

It is true that God made all things, including people in the divine image. God’s hands and God’s breath gave life to the first humans and so it has been ever since. At the right time, for us and for our salvation, the eternal Word became flesh and was called Jesus. In his glory, he too gives us new life through his hands and his breath. 

And we are sent out into the world, even when we have to stay home- we are still in the world. We, like the first people and the disciples, are sent out to care for God’s world and to share Christ’s peace. With the help of the Holy Spirit, we are called and equipped to work where we are- reshaping fear into hope, doubt into trust, and grief into joy so that all may believe and have life in Christ’s name. 

Amen. 

What Needs to Be Said

How do we measure the impact of 65,000 words?

A novel is considered a piece of writing that is a least 40,000. So 65K is a book, for certain.

Now, imagine 65,000 words in 1543.

Those words have to be written out with ink and a quill. They must be scratched onto expensive paper. Then to print and distribute your work of 65,000 words, each page must be set out carefully in the moveable type of the time, inked, and printed. Then the pages must be collated and then tightly handsewn together.

If a book had an illustration, it was likely a block print- carved out of wood, pressed in ink, and the image transferred onto the paper.

All of this sounds tedious, and it was, but it was so much faster than the hand-copying of the previous centuries, prior to Gutenberg and his glorious printing press.

What was carefully written up and printed in 1543? What ideas were worth carefully laying out the moveable type, carving a block print, and distributing far and wide? What topic could inspire 65,000 words?

This is the year in which Martin Luther published "On the Jews and Their Lies". In his earlier years, Luther believed that Jews had been unable to be drawn to the truth of the gospel due to misinterpretation by the Church. Now, in the midst of reinterpretation, he has assumed that Jews and Turks (the name he called Muslims) would be drawn to Christianity. As that turned out not to be the case, and then his prince and benefactor- John Frederick, Elector of Saxony- began to persecute Jews with his (the Elector's) realm.

Slowly, as Luther aged, he became embittered against Jews and then wrote his treatise, "On the Jews and their lies". Sixty-five thousand words railing against Jewish people and calling for their schools and synagogues to be burned, their rabbis and teachers to be prevented from doing their work, for Jews to be ghettoized- unable to live among Christians, for physical protection to be withdrawn from them, and for them to be enslaved or have their property taken away until they truly converted.

Luther never renounced these views.

Neither, in full, did the Protestant Church at the time or the Roman Catholic Church. A full rejection of anti-Jewish sentiment in the church did not happen until well into the lifetimes of some of the youngest people here. 

Great effort was taken to print and disseminate this treatise around Europe, especially among those who could read German. At the same time, there was an enormous (and commendable) effort to have the scripture translated into the vernacular. Thus, people now could read the Bible in their own language, but may or may not have had the skills to reflect openly on what they read.

This means that the subject of "On the Jews and their lies" was in conversation and at the same time that people could, for the first time, read about Jesus' encounters with his own people, their conversations, and their responses to one another. If one had not been adequately taught that Jesus was Jewish, that God always keeps God's covenants, and that Christianity was grafted into Israel's tree of life, then what does do with the idea that Jews are terrible people, living in one's own cities and towns?

Like a contaminated stream flowing into a river, "On the Jews and their lies" polluted the waters of Christian consciousness. To be clear, this particular river already had anti-Jewish and anti-Semitic detritus floating in from historical persecution against Jews, which has a very long history. This poison stream, fed for thousands of years, continued to contaminate the river of Christian consciousness beyond the Reformation on through the Renaissance, the foundations of American history, in 19th century Russia, into the European and American eugenics movements, through the horrors of the Third Reich and Holocaust, continued on in various forms in the Soviet Union, was present in the KKK and neo-Nazi movements of the United States, and committed its most recent horror yesterday in Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, Pennslyvania on the sabbath day of that community.

Now, please take a deep breath.

Why on earth, on my last Sunday here [at Lutheran Church of Hope], when I have so much to tell you and so much love to share with you, would I take my last twenty minutes of sermon time to speak about the pain, the horror, and the sin of anti-Judaism? Why would I bring up this aspect of Luther's life? Is this the time? Is this the place?

Rabbi Hillel, living close in time to Jesus, said, "If not me, who? If not now, when?"

The ultimate question of life is this: Why are we here?

The religious ultimate question is not "Is there a God?" That is a philosophical question.

The ultimate religious question, which already accepts that there is a god of some kind, is: What does God want with me?

If I have accepted, on through hearing the words of faith, that there is a God and I am not that God, then my life is spent coming to understand and further accept that I am not in control of very much. 
If God has done the work of:
- providing me with a pioneer and perfecter of my faith in Jesus
- giving me the gift of the Holy Spirit
- making me righteous
- ensuring my salvation
- cultivating my love [and]
- bringing me at the last to eternal life...

If I control none of those things, then what exactly is my work?

Let us consider, briefly, Psalm 46, verses 8 and 9:

Come, see the Lord’s deeds,
    what devastation he has imposed on the earth—     

bringing wars to an end in every corner of the world,
    breaking the bow and shattering the spear,
        burning chariots with fire.

What is the devastation that the Lord causes, according to the psalmist? It is the ending of war. The bringing of peace brings devastation to the earth. The end of the weapons of war, the conclusion of the rumors of war, the elimination of the terror of violence- this is the work of the hand of God. 

Why is the end of war devastating? 

Because it shatters the lies about control. War is about dominance, about power, about winners and losers. War and its fellow travelers- death, chaos, pain, and uncertainty- are the tools of the forces that oppose God. They are evil. They tell lies. We forcefully reject them. They oppose God's true reformation work- revelation of love, restoration of relationship, and resurrection in the face of death.

If God's devastating work, to be brought to fruition in creation, is the end of war- in all its forms, then the people of God must be at that work. It is not work that saves us. It is the work we are about precisely because we have been saved. It is the joy of our salvation, of trusting that we have been made right with God and not by our own selves, that allows us to take up work in our homes, in our backyards, in our neighborhoods, in our city, in our state, in our country, and in the world. 

And the work we are to be about, then, is God's own work of ending war. 

We are called to end the actual violence of war that comes about through political contests of will. We are called to end the war of sexual violence against women, girls, and all who identify as female. We are called to end the war of racism- in all its forms, including in institutions, within our justice system, and in our own hearts and minds. We are called to end the war of violence, exclusion, and hate against our LGBTQ+ siblings and neighbors. We are called to end the war of people versus the environment, remembering that the careful stewardship of creation is our first vocation as human beings. We are called to end the war that permits the denial of mental illness, lying about its causes, and ignoring treatment and possibilities for healing. 

We are called to end the war of anti-Jewish sentiment, of lies told about Jews, of misinterpretation and misapplication of scripture, of failing to wrestle with, apologize for, and learn from history. 

If God's devastating plan is to end war, then let it begin! And let it begin with me! Now! 

What is the weight of 65,000 words? Those words have the weight of the destroyed houses of pogroms in Russia, of stolen resources through oppression, inquisition, and general theft, of children who were denied resources because of their homes in ghettos, and the accumulated heft of bodies of murdered Jews through time, political dissidents, and others. That's what 65,000 words weigh. 

It is no small thing- to decide to be on the side of God's work to end war. 

It means, truly, to think about what Jesus would do. It means to pray to have a peacemaking heart, beginning in your closest relationships. This isn't a heart of enabling or accepting pain, but a heart that seeks to speak the truth, dismantle systems that create pain, and to work for the healing of the world. 

This is hard work. 

The work of war is easier, to be sure, because it allows the illusion of control and permits the inflicting of pain to those who are in one's way. War seems easier than peace because peace means a willingness to see, to accept, and to respond to the humanity of another person or group of people. Furthermore, peace means accepting that the other person or people are equally beloved by God and have also been justified (or made right with God)in the same manner as one’s self. 

When I was approved for ordination, the two professors from the now-non-existent Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia told me that they perceived in me the gift of patience. It was a kind of stubborn patience, they said, that was kind and firm. I would be best, they said, in congregations where there had been pain and conflict. The gift of patience, they said, would be put to use in helping a congregation to heal. 

You, my friends of Lutheran Church of Hope, don't need my patience anymore. I have been called to a place that needs the end of different kinds of wars and needs my patience to help with that. 

You have your gifts- your own desire to welcome, your gift of teaching and shaping pastors, your willingness to be generous with space, time, and money, every single person here and more. You know the wars that must end in Anchorage and in Alaska. The Holy Spirit is already guiding you. 

Though we will no longer be side by side in the work of caring for others and the world that God made, we will never truly be apart. Those who have been baptized, those who have eaten together, those who have wept, laughed, worked, and rested together- those are made into one in Christ- can never truly be separated. 

This will be hard. And we will be sad. But our work will go on, because God will not let us stop. 

65,000 words have a terrible weight. 

But they can be destroyed with a single word. 

Love. 

God is love. (1 John 4)

God's love intends to destroy war. 

God's love brought us together. 

God's love will carry us forward. 

God's love gives us good work for this world. 

God's love is enough. 

I love you. I am not God. My love for you wouldn't be enough, nor would yours for me. 

God's own love for us is enough- enough for our strength, our hope, and our courage. 

Enough to end the wars. 

Enough to bring eternal peace. 

May it be so.

Choose This Day (Revised)

Joshua 24:1–2a, 14–18, John 6:56-69

If, in the morning, I open my eyes,

My first decision thereupon lies.

Will I continue to lie in the bed,

Allowing my thoughts to run through my head?

Will I get up and go to the shower,

Regardless of both the weather and hour?

What of the children, who may want me to play?

What of the tasks that call me this day?

From the moment of waking, there are choices to make,

What will I give this day? What will I take?

I want to be saintly, say my first thoughts are of God,

But sometimes they’re not and, in that, I’m not odd.

We may rise with the sun or maybe at noon,

And most of us promise to get with God soon.

Yet, that instant, a choice has been made-

The balance of time againstGod has been weighed. 

We can’t do it all. Surely God understands.

Did not God make this world, its chores, its demands?

But in each thing we choose, and it ischoosewe must

We have decided in which god we shall trust.

When we make decisions for work or for pleasure,

With money or time, talents or leisure,

With each small decision we leave or we make,

We all choose a god for each task’s sake.

When Joshua says, “Choose this day whom you’ll serve.

My household and I, from God we’ll not swerve.”

He means the God of justice and freedom,

The God who through the desert did lead them.

This God of providence, of mercy and manna

Compared to all others, She proved top banana.

For the Israelites, Joshua lays out a decision,

Because, in history, they’d treated God with derision.

Sometimes God seemed so far and so distant,

They struggled to find His mercy consistent.

Yet, who gave the manna? Who gave the quail?

Who brought forth the water when the people did wail?  

“People of Israel,” Joshua said,

“Turn all that you’ve known around in your head.

Think of the guidance through both day and night,

Think of God’s grace. Think of God’s might.”

The people responded, “Our choice has been made.

We’ve looked around. It’s the Lord who makes grade.

Only one God says, ‘I am who I am’

The same God who was served by our dad, Abraham.”

Israelites promised to serve God, what may come,

For richer, for poor, when happy, when glum.

The years passed, however, and memories faded.

People forgot this choice and became jaded.

The desert, the manna- they all became history.

What God’s doing now… that became mystery.

It became easier to feel freed by law and instruction,

Only community’s structure prevented destruction.

But that structure left some people wanting,

The gift of the law seemed rather daunting.

Late onto the scene, the rabbi, Jesus, appeared.

Some people rejoiced. Some people jeered.

Then, and again, he talked about bread

About life here right now andlife after we’re dead. 

He healed sick people, he fed many others,

But his teaching confused both sisters and brothers.

What was this about flesh to eat, blood to drink?

A hard teaching to swallow, most people did think.

Said his disciples, “Jesus, this is enough.

What you’re talking about- it’s too much. It’s too tough.

We don’t like it. We don’t understand.

We’d like to quit you, but it doesn’t seem that we can.

We’ve looked around as to where we might go.

The problem is, there’s some truth we doknow. 

Within a world of struggle and strife,

Only You have the words of eternal life.

Only you have offered hope in the future,

Between God and us, you are the suture.

Even though it grows quite hard to stay,

We cannot leave you or your way.”

The disciples decided (or most of them did)

It was with Jesus that they placed their bid.

They decided, as their ancestors had,

To be on God’s side couldn’t be bad.

And so I say to you this day…

“Wait, Pastor Julia, I’ve something to say…”

“What is it, my child, what bothers you so?”

“Well, you’ve confused me. And so I must know

I thought God chose us. I thought it was done. 

I thought the war’s over. The fight has been won.

Didn’t Luther write we’d never say yes…

Without God’s Spirit, we can’t acquiesce!

If you tell me, ‘Today you must choose’

Are you not setting us up… to lose?”

You are right, my dear, in every way.

And yet you made a choice today.

You came to be here, to be in communion

To pray, to eat, to embody reunion.

Each day, we see gods far and near.

We can worship success. We can give over to fear.

We can spend our resources or over-honor our kin,

We can reverence our bodies from our toe to our chin.

We can make work our idol, honored, adored.

We can seek that which gives immediate reward.

But in the end, it all fails. It all becomes dust.

These idols- they’ll fade, they’ll die, they will rust.

In the end, what we need is something that lasts,

Something that goes beyond all other forecasts.

What can bring order to confusion and strife?

Only the hope of eternal life.

Eternal life, both for there and for here.

A growing, a knowing, a ridding of fear.

This is what Jesus offers- in body and blood.

Without that promise, bread and wine are just mud.

Like us, they’re from dust and to dust shall return,

But through eating and drinking, still we can learn

That God has chosen in creation’s favor,

The presence of Christ is what we savor

When we gather at table, both willing and able

To experience Jesus as the Truth and not fable.

To trust, to be open, is the choice we must make,

Each day, in the moment right when we wake.

In every moment, we choose a god to serve

With all that we have, each sinew and nerve.

 Our God is a God on the side of all of creation, 

Who knows and who loves without cessation.

Who gives us each talents, who gives us each gifts,

Who forgives our sins, who mends all our rifts.

Who with body and blood has chosen to feed us.

Who through valleys and o’er mountains, has chosen to lead us.

Lord, where could we go? You made us, you know us.

Now, through the Spirit, continue to grow us.

God has called you by name, so as your fear eases,

Choose your god every day. I recommend… Jesus.

Chew on This (Sermon)

John 6:51-58

         I have an obnoxious habit. (Well, probably more than one, but I’m just going to mention the one right now.) In a situation, when I am with other people whom I know identify as Christians and if we are talking about churchy, religious, or spiritual type things- I pay attention to how many times Jesus is mentioned. In listening to sermons, I think about how long it is until Jesus’ name comes into things. I want to hear about Jesus. 

         More specifically than just a mention of Jesus, I am interested in how we talk about him. Is Jesus easy to talk about- he’s great, good, and groovy? Is Jesus difficult to bring up- mysterious, frustrating, and confusing? Is Jesus close by and a ready comfort or far away and standoffish? 

         How do we interpret Jesus as a revelation of and from the Godhead? What does Jesus teach us about eternity, creation, and mercy?  

         It is possible to have a reductive conversation about Jesus- Jewish man from Roman-occupied Palestine, an itinerant rabbi with a band of unusual followers made up of women, laborers, and people who had worked for Rome. He died an ignoble death and something happened to his body. 

         For many of us, that’s not enough to say about Jesus. However, we are often as simplistic about

By Fritzs [GFDL ]

his divinity as some people are about his humanity. He died for our sins. He came to save us. Jesus loves the little children. 

         We’re talking about a fully human, fully divine being who caused his parents deep grief, who spoke with full knowledge about the prophecies of Isaiah, and yet also called a Canaanite woman a dog (Matthew 15). The very touch of his garment brought healing to a woman who suffered years of bleeding and his very words cursed a fig tree (Mark 5 and 11, respectively). Jesus warned off Peter’s bluster by rebuking him, “Get behind me, Satan” and then, later, washed Peter’s feet with humility and tenderness. 

         Jesus is a complex figure, the pioneer of our own faith and faithfulness, and God in flesh in our world. We cannot simplify who he was, who he is, and who he calls us to be. Today’s reading from John underscores that truth. 

         By the time gospel according to John is written, the Christian sect of Judaism is pretty much on the outside of temple life. It is, in part, through their own doing. Imagine tolerating a small group of people inside your religious group who have their own language, their own daily habits, and their own worship liturgy. As they progressively grow in their separation, it becomes harder and harder to include them in the activities and dynamics of the larger group. While there was animus between Jewish Judeans and Christian Judeans, the separation between the religious groups likely was more organic than the historically anti-Semitic slant of Western church history has led us to believe. 

         When the Fourth Gospel is being written, the complexity of living the Way of Christ has become evident. In the snippet of chapter 6 that we read today, the Greek takes a strange turn. The writer has Jesus initially using the verb phago for “to eat”, which is fairly straightforward. In verses 53 and 54, however, there is a switch. The writer moves from phago to trogo. Trogo is a little more graphic, more intense than the simple eat. Trogo, in Greek, conveys gnawing, munching, and crunching. 

         Thus, the writer is deliberating making these words of Jesus almost more offensive. Jesus invites those who believe to eat his flesh and drink his blood and it won’t be a dainty or tidy meal. It’s a gnawing banquet, in which everything is to be savored and stripped- with the bones crunched and munched. 

         The writer of the Fourth Gospel is making it clear that being part of the community will not be for the faint of heart. The very ways that the love of Jesus compels us to be at home and in the world are tough, intense, gnawing acts of grace and mercy. 

         Unfortunately, many Christians today want Jesus to be fast food- cheap, easy to consume, and quick to clean up after. Yet, I find that the world needs the Jesus we gnaw, the Jesus we pick over, the Jesus we make soup from and still find marrow inside the bone that brings nutrition. 

         That 900-page report out of Pennsylvania about 30 years of abuse by priests- the pain of that situation, the hurt people, the damaged trust… that situation needs gnawing, munching, and crunching. It is for trogo, not a quick phago. There is not fast food solution to that in the Roman Catholic Church or to anything similar in any denomination or religion. Jesus urges us to do the work of getting to the bone of the issue. 

         The reality of Anchorage teachers returning to work without signed contracts- guaranteeing their rights for the year ahead- is an issue to gnaw over. It stresses and stretches people who are in this room right now. It affects the children of this city, the present and future of Alaska. The love of Christ compels us to consider the complexity of the issue and gnaw it down together. 

         The growth of wildfires in California, the frequency of 100-year floods in the mid-West, the overturning of regulations meant to sustain the growth and safety of wild and human life… these are issues to gnaw over together. Not things that can be solved simply. Not things that can be ignored. Not things that have nothing to do with our faith, but in fact, these are the very things that we can address because we have faith. 

         The eternal life mentioned in John here and elsewhere is synonymous with the abundant life mentioned in John 10. It is not a life waiting to start after death, but a life that comes with having Jesus with you in the present. It is a clear and present truth for all whom Jesus draws through himself, by the Spirit, to God the Holy Parent. This is the life we have when we feast on Christ- when we gnaw on the truth, munch on the mercy, and crunch on the amazing grace that leads us to where God can use us for the sake of others and the world that God made. 

         When we come to Jesus’ table, we are usually pretty tidy. I know that you want bite-size morsels that you can chew and swallow easily. Little sips of wine or juice wash down the crumbs and we wipe the edge of the cup in a semblance of being sanitary. Yet, we are fed in a mysterious way by a complex Savior who has promised to show up in this meal for the purposes of feeding our faith so that we can live a life that is going to bring us alongside all kinds of people and situations that we would probably not choose for ourselves and, sometimes, would avoid if we could. 

         It was true for the Christians of the first century, receiving the words of the Fourth Gospel, and it is true for those following the Way of Christ in the 21^stcentury. We serve a resurrected Savior who is our brother (sibling rivalry), our leader (who is sometimes too far ahead), our teacher (whose lessons can be confusing), our healer (in his own sweet time), and the lover of our souls (what?!?). All of these things gnaw at us and we, on them. 

         Jesus is complicated. Jesus loves us. Jesus challenges us. Jesus wrestles with us. Jesus sends us out into the world, but there’s nowhere we can go that he’s not already there to welcome us. He feeds us. And, since Jesus is God, our whole lives are contained in him- from beginning through eternity. 

Let’s chew on that for a while. 

Amen.