Making Changes

I'm working on making some changes.

Don't worry, I'm not messing with the worship service or switching out the coffee at fellowship. I'm working on making some changes in myself. I don't often post much about myself like this, but I want you to know about one of the new priorities in my life. I have set it to make myself a better and healthier mother, spouse, pastor, and, most importantly, child of God.

I have never been what anyone would consider an athletic or physically fit person. No one has ever labelled me a health nut. Rather, I enjoy food, lots of food. I like to read, watch TV, knit, see movies, not particularly active things. The outdoors are pretty, and I enjoy sitting on our patio and relaxing in the warm weather, but I've never felt compelled to spend a lot of active time out of the house. A walk down to Knoke's is about as good as it has gotten for me, and hey, there's even ice cream or chocolate to reward that walk!

In the last couple of months, though, I have decided to make some changes. For the most part it has actually been a matter of stewardship. I know we usually think about stewardship in terms of money, but I have been thinking about stewardship of myself, my body, my health. Like all of God's children I have been called to take care of what God has created, and recently I have begun to realize that even means me.

A recent tweet from the PC(USA) Research Services Offices included this information from the results of two studies of the weight and health of pastors: The share of pastors who are obese almost doubled from 1991 to 2008. I wish this surprised me, but it didn't. I wish it were better news about the health of professional church leaders, but it isn't. Unfortunately, those of us who feel called to a vocation that includes caring for others sometimes forget to take care of ourselves. We let the unpredictable schedule get the best of us and don't carve out time keep bodies healthy. We forget that we are called to be stewards not just of the congregations we serve, but the bodies in which we live.

A few months ago, even before seeing the results of this research, I decided I would start taking better care of myself. I decided it was important to my family, myself, my spiritual life, and even our church for me to be as healthy as I can be.

I took up running and despite a minor setback due to some back problems this week am training for a local charity 5K race to be held in one month. I have never even run 1 mile (not even in elementary or junior high school!), but now I'm signed up to run 3.1. The meals we eat as a family are pretty nutritious already, but I have been paying closer attention to some of the choices I make. I am being more vigilant about taking adequate time to relax and relieve stress whenever possible. I haven't turned into a complete "health nut," and I certainly haven't sworn off walks for Knoke's chocolate or our delicious fellowship treats, but I am trying to establish some healthy habits and care for the body God has given me so that I can serve our Lord to the best of my ability.

A new website and virtual community I have gotten involved in is called #runrevrun. The group started on Twitter, and just this month we have set up a website to encourage ministers and others in "Keeping Fit, Keeping Faith." You, too, can check it out! I hope to be an occasional writer on the blog, writing from the perspective of an exercise "newbie." In the meantime, I go to the site and read posts daily to be encouraged by the efforts of my colleagues in ministry. I post my runs on Twitter and encourage my new friends as they strive to get healthy, too.

I share this with you because it has become important to me. It is important to me to improve my health for myself, my family, and my call, which is as your pastor. It has meant and will continue to mean some changes in my life and also my schedule. It means on days with long evening meetings you might not find me in the office first thing in the morning; I'll be outside or at the Y squeezing a run into the day. It means when my schedule is full during the day I might have to leave an evening open to make time some healthy activity. It MIGHT mean I choose to politely decline a very tasty treat (but don't count on that!).

I also share this with you to encourage you to think about the stewardship of your own life. Are you caring for the part of God's creation that is closest to you? Is your health a priority so that you can serve God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength and love your neighbor as you love yourself? If not, I encourage you to think about even just a small change or two you can make to set this priority as you move forward in faith and service.

The 'S' Word

Isaiah 58:6-14
1 Peter 4:8-11

The believers were a minority in their communities. To fully practice their faith they had to make difficult decisions about their priorities. The world didn’t stop because the followers of Jesus wanted to get up before dawn on Sunday, a regular workday, to celebrate the resurrection. Some of them met in secret out of fear of physical or social harm. Not too many people were making the kind of commitment they were making with their lives and their livelihood.

Taxes were due, there were bills that needed to be paid, hungry mouths to feed, yet still there was this expectation among the people of this faith at least some of their money would be pooled together to take care of people in need. It was probably viewed as downright foolish to turn over what you rightly owned to share it with others, even send it off to some other place for some other people. They were likely mocked, criticized by their neighbors for blindly giving what they earned to someone speaking some nonsense about new life, new birth, and grace. It was like they didn't even belong to the same world.

Earlier in his letter, the apostle Peter tries to encourage them in their difficult position saying, "But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy." Yet the difficult truth comes out when he continues, "I urge you as aliens and exiles."

Some say there isn’t a huge difference between the communities that received Peter’s letters and our own. We, too, are resident aliens. We live in this geographic place and this historical time, but our spiritual citizenship is of another world. When we choose to live according to the rules of God's kngdom instead of the false rules set by the culture, there are plenty of people who will look at how we live and what we believe as complete foolishness. We are living in a world that in some ways isn't all that different from the era of the early church. And the instruction that Peter gave them for living as strangers in their own land is important instruction for us, too.

Peter uses a familiar institution, the household, to teach about this new and foreign life of discipleship. The minor problem is what we call a household and what Peter calls a household aren’t necessarily the same. To Peter a household is more than just a couple or a family and maybe some pets. To him a household is a family, even more extended than we would usually consider, with a clear head or authority (usually a man, but not always) and ALL of the people, relatives, servants, slaves, and contract workers who work for the single head of household. The workers are under the authority of the head in more than just business matters. In the Acts of the Apostles when entire households are baptized, converted to the Christian faith, this includes those workers in the house who may not be related to the master. The workers are more than just employees; they are part of the household. Their success and failure is wrapped up in the success and failure of the whole household.

Peter’s instructions for discipleship in a foreign culture reiterate that our household is not of this world. Our citizenship is in another world. Our household is the household of God, and in it we are called to be, in the Greek, oikonomos. In English it breaks down to mean house manager. Our Bible translation uses the word "steward" in this case. Be good stewards, good managers in God’s household. Not owners, but managers, looking over and caring for the property of the master.

Important to the understanding of our call as stewards is the understanding that while stewards have a VERY important job of management and in Jesus' parables even the job of investing and growing the property of the master, stewards are not the owners of that which they manage. We have a lot of responsibility for that what is in our care, but our job is not to care for it according to our own desires and wishes; our job as stewards is to carry out the mission and will of the true owner, our master.

As Christians we are called to be the stewards of God’s gifts of grace in the world, gifts that manifest themselves in many different ways. Traditionally, the church often talks about gifts of time, talent, and treasure. Although we talked about it with different language, much of last winter and spring our congregation was engaged in discerning how we would be good stewards of God's gifts of time and talent, both as individuals and as a congregation. Together we learned that God has placed particular gifts and graces in our midst and calls us to be stewards of them for divine purposes.

Now it is time for us to look individually and as a community at the gifts of "treasure" that have been placed in our hands. This is when we all start to squirm in our seats, right? The "S" word is about to be uttered. It's that stewardship season, that stewardship sermon and someone's going to get up there and start talking about money!

At some point in our cultural development it became taboo to talk about money in polite circles. And at some point in that same development the church became, at least in theory, a "polite circle." I have heard more than one congregation boast about the fact that "you will never hear anyone talk about money in our church." As a pastor trying to live out my call I have felt pressure to be one of those who keeps the financial talk to a minimum. I confess that I have fallen to that pressure, and I think it is at a disservice to God, my call, and the people I am called to serve.

Money is never off limits as a topic of spiritual concern in Scripture. Directions for offerings for a multitude of reasons are all over the Old Testament. There are offerings for when a child is born, when a disease is healed, when crops are brought in, when seeds are planted.

There are offerings to thank God for blessings that have come and curses that have stayed away, thank offerings for prayers answered and pleas that have been heard. Isaiah, probably the most familiar prophet, especially in this Advent season, talked about offering in a different way in this morning’s reading. He talked about giving for the good of the community, giving that brings pleasure to God, as a fast, a sacrifice, that is also good for the spiritual life of the giver.

And in the New Testament, Jesus probably talks about money more than any other single topic throughout the gospels. Paul and the other apostles in Acts and the various letters also talk about the blessing and responsibility of giving money to God's greater purposes. Yet at some point, our understanding of God's call on our finances was lost. The church and members of it, like the culture around us, started to see money as a private matter - - maybe a matter between each of us and God, if God was involved in the equation at all. The mainstream church became quiet on the subject, and almost all sense of each of us as stewards of God's grace was virtually lost.

In a forum for pastors that I was reading recently, I learned how one expert suggests that pastors of churches should work to end this silence and lead by example. He says pastors should tell their congregations exactly what they give. Now I don't think it's just the culturally-influenced silence that will keep me from doing that today. I simply don't know what our household's dollar amount will add to the conversation, but what I do want to share, and so you know, Phil has agreed to let me share this with you, is how we figure what we will give and why.

We are not yet biblical tithers, meaning we don't yet give a full 10% of our combined incomes to the church and other places where God is at work in the world. However, we do consciously and prayerfully discern our pledge and our giving as a percentage of our incomes, making steps to increase that percentage each year, whether or not we receive raises in our jobs. And although we give in other ways and to other organizations throughout the year when we feel led by the Spirit, we have decided, for a time, to eliminate any pledges to groups outside of the church in order that we can focus on increasing our stewardship in the place we feel God is calling us right now.

We do this not because it is our duty and not as a payment for services rendered. We do this because it is a spiritual discipline. It is something that brings us closer to God because it is a way to continually reestablish our dependence on God, reacknowledge God's sovereignty over our lives and all that is in them. Thinking about our pledges in terms of a percentage of the total gift we hold in trust for God makes stewardship of our money less intimidating and helps us make steps each year to grow in our giving and in our faith in significant and measurable ways.

You may have noticed on the pledge cards that have been prepared this year a chart to help you think about percentage giving. I encourage you, as a spiritual discipline, to figure out where you are on the chart as you are discerning your pledge this year. Where is God calling you to be in your pledge for the next year? Is it possible God might be challenging you to further dependence on God, calling you to give one percentage point more?

Yes, many mainline congregations have lost their voices when it comes to talking about the role of the faithful as God's stewards who manage the gifts of God for the purposes of God, the spiritual nature of seeking God's purposes with the money entrusted to us. But we can't let that continue to happen. And I don't say that because this or any congregation has a building to pay for and a budget to balance. Truly, I don't. I say it because it is a part of who we are as God's people, as a holy nation, living under the authority of the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. It is a part of what we do as God’s children, called to make sacrifices that God chooses, sacrifices that give shelter to the homeless, share food with the hungry, and clothe the naked.

I say it because we have been created by God to be a part of God's mission and work in the world. All that there is around us and within us is part of God's creation, is owned by God. All that we are and all that we have is not ours, but is God's. Our days, our abilities, our minds, and our lives, yes, even our money - - it isn't ours at all; it is God's. We have just been given it to manage for a time, to invest and spend on God's purposes for us and for the world.

This is why we give. All of it comes from God. All of it belongs to God. We give because it is a part of our full commitment to Christ who by being born on this earth displayed his full commitment to us. By his grace, we are called to be stewards in God’s household. We honor our master by returning a portion of what is hardly ours to keep, by committing it to God's work in the world.

This isn't the kind of giving that, as they say, wins friends and influences people. This isn't the kind of giving that helps us fit in with the mainstream culture. Our culture is one that values independent decision-making more than shared discernment, personal advancement more than compassionate communities, and ownership more than just about anything else. To treat God's graces of time, talent, and treasure as anything other than ours is going to raise a few eyebrows and point us out as what Peter already knows we are - - resident aliens, in this world, but not of this world. Yet it is what we are called to do as the people of God, those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on whom a light has now shined.

It is what we can do to maintain love for one another and all of God’s children. It is how we can show our gratitude to God who comes to walk among us, even to be born as helpless child, dependent on the gifts and hospitality of others. It is what we are called to do, and when we do it, when we live as good stewards of the grace of God, it is not because of our own strength, it is because of the strength God supplies through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen

Divine Extravagance

I found it rather ironic mid-week when I was struggling over and deeply worrying about my sermon for this week. People often ask about what the process is for writing sermons, and I can tell you that it’s different for every preacher. But for me some weeks the words seem to come easily and some weeks, like Jacob who wrestled with an angel deep in the night, so do I wrestle with the Word of God. This was one of those wrestling weeks.

The passage that’s listed there is not what I will read, or actually it’s just a portion of what I will read. It’s one that was very familiar to me, maybe to you, too, and one of heard preached countless times. Sometimes that actually makes writing a new sermon harder. It feels like everything that could be said has, and gets me worrying if I am finding a message that maybe hasn’t been said. Maybe I’m getting it all wrong. Hence the worrying about a sermon on a passage that seems on the surface to be all about not worrying.

But, I struggled with God’s word this week because that surface reading just wasn’t working for me, especially because of where this familiar passage comes in the gospel according to Luke. One little word in the beginning of this reading just kept tripping me up. That word? “Therefore.”

It’s not even a theological word, but it just kept getting in the way of writing a sermon about worry or not worrying. “Therefore” connects this perfect “Flora and Fauna Sunday” passage about the ravens of the air and the lilies of the field to what comes before. What Jesus is saying about worrying, often a comforting passage for those who feel overworked and overstressed, means something completely different when read back to find out what this passage is answering. So, despite what the order of worship says (something I often complete earlier in the week than my sermon when I end up wrestling like this), I’m going to read more than just the “Flora and Fauna” passage. Today’s gospel reading is Luke 12:13-31. Listen now for God’s word.

Luke 12:13-31

The request from the man in the crowd doesn’t seem too out of order. He just wants things to be fair. He just wants a share of the family’s inheritance, something that may not have been customary at the time, but it doesn’t seem too far-fetched to ask. Yet, Jesus has some pointed words for this man and others, who might be trying to accumulate wealth. He tells the man in the crowd to be careful what he wishes for. Jesus tells him to “Take care!” saying that even this might be a form of greed.

His parable that follows is pretty clear. The rich farmer had barns that were good enough, that were big enough, to hold his already successful harvest, but he wanted more. He wanted bigger barns to hold more crops and more possessions. He was sure he could make his soul happy by gathering grain and goods and holding fast to them. But Jesus is quick to point out that this just doesn’t work. The things he has gathered may make him rich on earth, but they take him nowhere in his relationship with God. His actions are driven by greed and not by a faithful desire to find happiness in God. He tries to accumulate wealth, to gather riches, but the treasures he stores up take him far from what God truly wants.

Wealth and extravagance, in terms of money and material goods that are accumulated and held onto, do not come out on the winning side of that parable. Yet in the next breath, in the directions indicated by the “therefore” Jesus praises the extravagant beauty of the lilies and grasses of the field. The lilies he calls us to consider are apparently clothed more beautifully than the great King Solomon ever was. They don’t have to work. They don’t have to struggle. They are just blessed with this beauty and are praised for the extravagance they stand for. Their rich beauty is praised by Jesus right after he finishes speaking against the man’s riches!

Why is wealth or the appearance of wealth sinful in one case, but a sign of ideal living for God’s creatures in the next? What’s the difference between the man who delights in his riches and the lily that displays its?

The “therefore” gives us our answer. “Therefore, I tell you,” Jesus says, “do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear.” “Do not worry.” Worry here is more than just hand-wringing. It’s sort of like believing in the New Testament. Belief is never just something you agree with in your head or in your heart even. Belief in the New Testament pretty much always implies actions that go with it. Worrying here is not just thinking and wondering what is going to happen; worrying is gathering wealth and stockpiling it. Worrying is pulling down barns that were big enough and building bigger ones that are too big. Worrying is holding back what we have been given for our own use, or even trying to gather more than what we need just to be sure that we’ll have it.

That’s what the rich man in the parable is doing; it’s what the man from the crowd who questions Jesus is trying to get him to bless. The difference in the riches Jesus warns us against and the riches he praises is not so much where they come from. With the rich man in the parable, the wealth in question is wealth which with he has been blessed by God. The crops he gathers, sure have come to him after seasons of hard work and learning the ways of the fields, but the gifts of the land are gifts from God, God who designed the plants to produce seeds that grow, God who sends rains to water the earth and causes the sun to shine on the leaves that grow. And likewise the riches displayed by the flowers of the earth also come from God’s delicate designing hand.

The difference between these two rich examples is not where they come from, but what is done with them. The crops the man harvests are gifts given to him by God, and yet he seeks to gather them for no other purpose than to hoard them away for himself. He stores them up, intends to hold onto them for many years, and he even thinks that in doing so he has found a way to make his soul happy. He holds back the treasures he has been freely given by God for himself and his own enjoyment. His extravagance and riches are self-centered and serve only to bring joy and merriment to one. He is concerned only with himself, his own happiness, his own future, his own needs, and with such single-mindedness his concern turns to active worry and his worry turns quickly to the sin of greed.

Likewise the riches the lily displays have been freely given by God. The flowers of the field are draped by God more beautifully than Solomon was dressed in fine robes and jewels. God has taken care to be sure each flower is rich in color and fragrance, that each blade of grass can dance in the wind, that each lily will dazzle the eye that gazes upon it. God has drenched the creation with extravagant riches and beauty and praises the ones who share that beauty freely given.

Jesus makes a good example not out of the industrious human being who finds a way to stockpile everything that grows in the field, not the farmer who hides away the blessings he has received. Instead Jesus tells us to be like a humble and even temporary flower growing wild. It doesn’t work (it CAN’T work) to accumulate more of what it has received by grace, so it grows strong and proud as the one thing God has created it to be. It can do nothing more than share the beauty it has received only from God.

The wealth of the lily, the richness and extravagance that is praised in this flower of the field doesn’t come from storehouse stockpiled out of worry and greed. That’s what the “therefore” points out to us. Storing up treasures for ourselves can’t make us rich toward God; it can’t bring happiness to our souls or create joy in our lives. The treasures we have been given by God, the grace and forgiveness we have received in Christ, the talents we enjoy, even the money and materials things we possess aren’t meant to be stored away for only our benefit. They are meant to be shared with others. The lily is extravagantly beautiful in the eyes of God, it is adorned in divine splendor, because all it can do is share its riches with the world.

Holding back what we have been given is where we so often go wrong. Holding back the riches with which we have been blessed is where we stray from God’s kingdom. When we hold too tightly to God’s grace, refusing to forgive others as we have been forgiven we are greedy with God’s love. When we hold too tightly to our abilities, refusing to offer our skills and talents in service to God and others, we are greedy with God’s creativity. When we hold too tightly to our money and our possessions, investing only for our own futures and our own interests, we are greedy with God’s wealth.

The gifts of God are for each of us and for the world, and God gives these gifts extravagantly! While our impulse is to gather as many of these gifts as we can and store them away, this isn’t what God intends; these aren’t Jesus’ plans for the grace he secured for us. Forgive my blatant personification, but a lily is rich not because it takes all the beauty God has given and hides it underground, sharing nothing with the rest of us but a colorless, bland stalk. The lily is rich and splendid because it is being the best lily it can be in God’s kingdom.

The world in which God delights is not found when we look only inside ourselves, serving only our own interests and desires. The world in which God delights is discovered when each of us loosens the grip we have on the gifts we have been given and shares our God-blessed unique lives with the world. In doing that we will see God’s riches displayed in each other. We will find the kingdom of God which we seek.

Bread for the Journey

Exodus 12:1-11
Luke 22:1, 14-28

The dispute over who is the greatest among the disciples is recorded in some way in several gospel accounts. In fact the Mark version of the argument was the central text in our worship even just about a month ago. I have to admit, for this reason, I felt a temptation to deviate from the worship and devotional materials provided by the Finance and Stewardship committee for this stewardship season. It was feeling a little redundant at first. But, obviously, I didn’t. Yes, we have heard the same basic outline – the disciples argue about which among them is the greatest, but we also have differences to the story, differences that bring us a different word from God.

In Mark, we heard about them arguing on the road immediately after hearing Jesus’ second prediction of his suffering and death – the argument pointing out their total cluelessness over what Jesus thinks it means to be great. In Matthew the argument comes after a teaching about taxes and the question of honoring the rules of the status quo. The argument we heard today, though, takes up an entirely different meaning because of where and when it happens.

It doesn’t happen on the road. It doesn’t happen in front of the crowds. It doesn’t happen while Jesus is out and about in the countryside ministering to the crowds and introducing his disciples to a new way of life. It isn’t during a test posed by his challengers. It happens here. It happens at the table, a very specific table, the Passover table, the last table Jesus will share with his disciples on this side of eternal life, and that setting makes all the difference.

The Passover celebration brings with it a deep and abiding connection with history, the saints of the faith, those remembered as the greatest of the faith tradition, like Moses or Elijah, who figure prominently in the Passover liturgy and traditions.

Take Moses. He was raised a foreigner in the palace. He never fully fit in. We see him struggling as a young adult with who he really was, where he really belonged. Then he is called to lead, but he has a speech difficulty. It doesn’t seem like a great match, really. Identity crisis, self-esteem problems, problems with public speaking. And this is the guy we remember for his obvious greatness? I’m sure it didn’t seem so great in the moment. Even the Israelites he helped liberate complained against and about him. Why didn’t you leave us in Egypt to die, they cried while wandering around in the desert for 40 years? That doesn’t sound so great.

Then what about Elijah and the other prophets? Sure their words to the people of Israel and Judah are inspiring and admirable after the fact, but hardly anyone would consider them great in their own time. Preaching to the people, hounding them even, calling them to repentance and a new way of living before God, rarely won them friends and great influence. It hardly seemed to work at the time. Despite their efforts, God’s people still ended up in exile in Assyria and Babylon. Their homeland and their temple destroyed more than once by occupations from all sides. Elijah and the other prophets – they had their moments, but in terms of overall effectiveness in their jobs in their generations – not too many would be considered great.

Yet the greatness of these saints isn’t doubted today. They, their words, and their work are honored in memory, lifted up in ritual, studied for emulation and spiritual growth. We know they are great and don’t doubt that or dispute it, but what made it true?

I’d say it was their faithful service. Their faithful and humble service to God and others. Their response to God’s call to put the needs of the community above their own reputation, their own comfort, their own popularity and credibility, even their own desires, in order to follow God’s call and be sent to serve the people. Moses had a pretty cushy life in the palace. He had power over others. He lived in luxury with servants serving him. He was pretty disconnected from his oppressed ethnic and religious community, and could have continued living that way if he could have just pushed down his worries about the way the people were being treated. He could have continued to live in a position of authority over the slaves. But he didn’t.

Yes, he was the leader of the Israelites, but his leadership was in obedience to God, for the good of the people. He served them by working for their good, risking his power and his position to free them from Pharaoh, going on their behalf into the dangerous and overwhelming presence of God, enduring the discipline of God for their transgressions. Moses was great not because he wanted to be or tried to be or even ASKED to be. Moses was great because he humbly served God and his community.

And what now of the circumstances of this dispute among the disciples in Luke? What significance do they lend to its meaning for us today? It was the observance of the Passover. It was the time when the Jewish people of God remembered and celebrated the miracle of their exodus from slavery in Egypt, the leadership and faithfulness of Moses, Elijah, and the other saints who preceded them. It was the time of year when they honored and worshiped God for sending them a leader, a servant of God’s will and a servant of God’s people, who led them into the Promised Land, a time of year maybe, when they who lived under the rule of the Romans again longed for a sign of their chosenness, their greatness before God and the world.

It was also, we are told, when the hour had come. Satan had come to Judas Iscariot. He had conferred with the chief priests and officers of the temple about how to betray Jesus. He was now on the lookout for his perfect opportunity when no crowd would be present. Having entered Jerusalem a few days earlier to shouts of, “Blessed is the king!” Jesus and the disciples were huddled away in a borrowed room in a town that was turning hostile. Daily, he was preaching to crowds peppered with spies who were out to catch him, to challenge his word and question his authority.

But even in the face of this hostility he continued his ministry, he continued to serve God. Cleansing it first of all injustice and greed, Jesus preached in the temple to everyone who would listen. He faced challenge upon challenge from this opponents, standing up for the message God sent him to deliver. He wept and prayed over the city of Jerusalem.

He didn’t hide away to protect himself. He didn’t stay out of the limelight to put his safety first. He didn’t relish in the crowd’s shouts from Palm Sunday, “Glory in highest heaven” excusing himself from the dangerous and foreboding work still to be done. He didn’t leave the people who had not yet heard, not yet believed his divine message out in the dark. He served them. He served them with love and served them with urgency. He served them as God had sent him to do. He served them, setting aside his safety. Setting aside his concern for his future, he served them. And likewise he served the disciples at the Passover table.

Likewise he serves US at this table. He serves us. Jesus is the host of the celebration we share today. He has provided the gifts, the bread we will break together, the cup we will pour for all. He provides the seed and the wind and the rain that causes it to grow. He gives the life and energy and means to those who harvest and ship, who pound and mill, who bake and press, who sell and buy, who prepare and serve these elements to us this day. He is the host, and the source, and the grace-filled Spirit we receive in this sacrament, but he is also the servant, the one whose body was broken that we might have life, the one who meets all our needs, satisfies our deepest hungers, and the one whose blood was poured out to quench our most desperate thirst. He is the example for us to follow. He is God calling us join his ministry.

The Israelites in Egypt ate the Passover with their traveling pants on, their shoes on their feet, their walking sticks ready to go. They ate their meal in a hurry, knowing that it wasn’t an end to their story itself, but it was just the beginning of their journey. This is how we should eat at the Lord’s Table. This is how we should worship in God’s presence. Our traveling clothes should be on. Our shoes should be on our feet. Our walking sticks should be in our hands, because this table, this grace, this love and forgiveness of God that we receive together in the sacrament is not an end in itself. It is just the beginning.

It is our bread for the journey. It is the sustenance we need for our lives of service to God and others. It is just the beginning, the example even, of our life in Christ. As he has freely given himself to us, so we are called to greatness, not through some special status at his right hand or as a guest of honor at the banquet. We are called to greatness by freely serving others as he serves the world, selflessly, indiscriminately, and among the least of these, the outcast, the shunned, the discarded of society. We are called to greatness not that will be recognized in this time, in this age, but greatness that will be recognized by God when someday we will join the great cloud of witnesses who are blessed to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

The Call to the Depths

Luke 5:1-11
Monday nights are swimming lesson nights for our family. I say for our family because William is still in a parent-child class, so when swimming lesson night comes along it means some parent must join a child in the pool. Two weeks ago it was my turn. While I was in the zero entry shallow pool with William, Karoline was with her class in the big pool. This is her first session with lessons in the big pool. She’s learning to swim, but she is by no means a strong swimmer. She’s getting better, but she’s really much more comfortable in the end where she can touch the bottom.

The other week her class started in the shallow end of the pool, but I could tell as the lesson went on it wasn’t the teachers’ goal to stay there. They had the noodles, the floating devices out, and the teachers were sort of coaxing the class into deeper and deeper water.

After the lesson, when Karoline was giving me her play-by-play version of what happened, she said to me, “Mommy, they wouldn’t let me stay where I could touch. They kept calling my name and making me kick farther and farther to the deep end. It was so so scary!”

And it was for her. It was terrifying. Try to remember that time, if you can, when you first felt that feeling of NOTHING below you in the water. How uncertain it felt, unfamiliar, confusing even to have nothing on which to place your foot, to have no ground on which to stand. Imagine, remember if you can, what it felt like to have that chaotic emptiness, even in the stillest of pools, that feeling of the unknown, wide, empty space just below the surface of the water that seemed endless, swallowing even. Remember the deep water.

The deep water wasn’t unfamiliar to Simon and the rest of the fishermen. They knew exactly where it was and EXACTLY how to avoid it. There was no tricking them out there with floating noodles or promises of gold stars. They knew the depths were nothing to mess with. The depths represented chaos, the wild uncontrollable power to destroy and overwhelm. The depths have only ever been contained by the one who is uncontainable. The depths have only ever been restrained by God. No one in their right mind would CHOOSE to set sail for the depths, no matter how desperate.

And those fishermen were desperate. All night long they had fished the usual spots, the spots flush with fish to feed themselves and their families. All night long they had cast their nets and waited, expectantly, hopefully, to pull them in full and heavy. But it was all for nothing. Catching nothing they pulled their boats to shore and began to clean the debris from the night’s fruitless efforts out of their nets.

So really, Simon had nothing to lose when the wandering preacher asked him to put his boat out a little way so that he could speak to the crowds of men and women going about their daily chores on the shoreline. There weren’t any fish to clean and prepare anyway. He took the man out and listened to him teach with authority enough to warrant calling him “Master.” But when the man made an even more ridiculous request, Simon had to argue.

Go out again into the water, and not just the water, the deep water? Cast his nets out there after a full night of catching nothing? Who is this man and what is he thinking? Does this wandering preacher think he can do better than the professionals?

And go out into the deep water, is this guy kidding? It’s the deep water! It’s unknown. It’s murky. It’s dangerous. It’s terrifying. It’s so, so scary. It’s everything Simon feared. It’s everything we fear. It’s lack of control. It’s where we can’t touch. It’s loneliness. It’s out of reach. It’s just plain crazy. No one sails into the depths on purpose. No one faces those fears if they have a choice. In fact lots of us ignore the depths even if we DON’T have a choice. We make the choice NOT to learn to swim, not to face the pressure that is mounting, not to deal with the reality that is right in front of our faces – the reality that we can’t control it all, we can’t be safe all the time. We can’t avoid the depths.

Illness comes. We don’t invite it in, but it comes and it can grip lives. Bankruptcy comes, we don’t go looking for it, but it comes and it beats our spirits down. Joblessness comes, we don’t give them up willingly, but it comes into our lives and shakes the very foundations of our security. The depths come, and while some of us would rather turn our heads and try to ignore their presence, steer our boats around them, avoid facing the reality of their tumult, Jesus has another idea all together.

“Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch,” he invites. We may think he knows NOTHING about what we’re going through when he invites us to follow, but we have so much to learn.

“Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch,” he calls. Come with me into the deepest, darkest places in your life, the deepest darkest places in your soul. I’m going with you, and there you’ll find a catch, there I will touch you with a blessing.

"Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch,” he PROMISES. Your fear can’t stop you. Your fear doesn’t stop me. Together, let’s go to the depths and see what blessings we can catch.

The deep end of the pool at swimming lessons seems a terrifying thing at first. It really does, but it doesn’t come without its rewards. Immediately after declaring it “so so scary,” Karoline continued to tell the story of how she made her way out there. “My teacher kept calling my name, so I just kept kicking. You know, it’s not swimming if my feet are touching the ground.”

She’s exactly right. It’s not. It’s not swimming if your feet are touching the ground. It’s not fishing if you aren’t throwing your nets into deeper water. It’s not believing, if we aren’t trying things that seem outrageous when we already feel like we’re in over our heads.

The deep waters aren’t the first or the last place any of us wishes to be, but the deep waters are there, and sometimes, just sometimes, like it or not, we have to go right into the middle of them. And right there in the middle of them, right there where the bills are piling up, right there where the kids are getting sick. Right there where our parents are aging, right there where memories are fading, marriages are crumbling, friendships are slowly slipping away. Right there in the middle of it all, sitting next to us in the boat is Jesus telling us to cast our nets, telling us to trust him, calling us to follow.

Because the deep water is no time to turn away. The deep water is no time to lose faith or give up following. The deep water is where we learn to swim. The deep water is where our believing becomes real, not because of some false promise that God will magically turn all our tribulations into triumphs. Not because our risk is worthy of a reward or passing the test will grant us admission to God’s treasure trove. The deep water is where our believing becomes real because it is there we have to trust and believe that the God we know in Jesus Christ is not afraid of the depths we find most frightening.

Whatever Jesus said from the boat to the crowds must have been very convincing, because Simon went. He put his boat out in the deep water, against his better judgment, against the disapproving and flabbergasted looks from shore. He pushed his boat out farther and farther into the lake of Gennesaret until he reached the deep waters. There he and his partner put out their nets and caught so many fish the nets were bursting at the seams. They pulled in more blessings than their boat could carry. They piled so many fish in there the boats they even began to sink!

Simon knew then who he had met in the deep water. He knew then he would believe the truth and this comfort this man would speak – “Do not worry about your life. Are you not of more value than the birds?” “Daughter, son, your faith has made you whole.” “I will not leave you alone. I am coming to you.” “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

The God we know in Jesus Christ is MORE than capable of using the deep waters as a place of revelation, if we are willing to meet God there. The God we know in Jesus Christ can turn the deep waters into a source of blessings more than we can carry. Even in the middle of the deepest waters, we can find friends and companions for the lonely journey. We can find relief when commitments are overwhelming. We can find compassion in cold and impersonal systems. We can find understanding when all our cries have gone unheard.

In the deep end we learn how to swim. In the deep waters, we learn how to follow and believe.