“With Whom are You Talking?” Luke 12:13-21

Who are you talking to?

As part of my Seminary training, I spent a semester as a chaplain at the Anoka State Mental Hospital in Minnesota.  I had an opportunity to meet a wide variety of people with a range of mental and physical conditions.  

I would often find “Arnie”, (which is what I will call him) sitting in the back lounge carrying on a very fine conversation.  

That wouldn’t have been too unusual, except that “Arnie” was the only person in the back lounge when I would walk in.  He was carrying on this fine conversation all by himself. 

(I should say this was in the day before Bluetooth ear sets, now you see people talking to themselves everywhere!)

The conversation would range far and wide.  It would jump from topic to topic quite naturally, and then come back full circle. 

Arnie would gladly engage me in the conversation when I sat down with him as if I were just another person in the room, but if I challenged him on a point, he would most likely dismiss it.

“No, we’ve talked about that,” he’d say.  The “we” (meaning the conversation he was having with himself inside his head.) “We think it’s this way.”  

It did little good to try to bring an outside opinion into Arnie’s conversation.   He much preferred agreeing with himself.

You can’t be too hard on Arnie, because he’s just an amplified example of what we all tend to do.  

Don’t believe me? 

Come on, now, when was the last time you went shopping and debated about the purchase of an item? 

Who were you really talking to?  

Sometimes we talk with our greater expectations of ourselves.  “I really shouldn’t have another pair of shoes, I don’t really need them.”

Sometimes we find ourselves talking with our parents or our significant other.  “Mom and dad would have slept on this kind of purchase before making it.”  

“What will he say/she say, if I walk into the house carrying this?”

Sometimes we hold that conversation with the externals of life.  “Hey, I can afford it.  It’s a quality item, a good buy, and a decent price, why shouldn’t I get it and enjoy it!”

No matter who you think you might be talking to in that moment of decision; you are really just talking to yourself.

And do you know what I have discovered in all my 60+ years of living and holding these kinds of conversations with myself?

I’ve discovered that I can pretty much talk myself into whatever I want!

How about you?

This is the insight we need to bring to this Gospel lesson.   

The man in the crowd approaches Jesus with what at first would seem to be a laudable request.  “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.”

It was not unusual in the time of Jesus for Rabbi’s to be consulted as arbiter in matters of family squabbles, or trade disagreements, to offer a neutral opinion. 

It sounds like a good move to involve an impartial arbiter.   

But on closer examination, that’s not really the what the young man is asking for.

This man who approaches Jesus in the crowd has already decided what should be done! 

He isn’t asking Jesus to mediate his dispute. 

He’s asking Jesus to make his brother pony up to what he has already decided is the best course of action. 

“Bid my brother divide the inheritance with me!”

It’s time to split up the farm and livestock and go our separate ways!

To the man’s request Jesus gives a warning about greed, and then he tells this parable about the rich fool to punctuate it.  

What the parable makes painfully clear is what happens when the only person you are consulting in an important matter is really just yourself!

Take a look again at the circumstances in this Rich Fool’s life.   He is blessed with an abundant crop, and who does he consult about it?

Only Himself!

          There is no thought as to going outside, no checking with the needs of the community, no commentary about how it could be used for the benefit of others!  

He is at such a loss as to what to do with this abundance that comes his way that he never even consults anyone outside of himself about what could be done with it.  

Particularly absent is any conversation with God about it.

And so, he asks himself what he should to do!

And guess what conclusion he draws?  

He undertakes a building program for his own benefit, so that he can take it easy from here on out and enjoy life.

He never questions if this is the right thing to do, the just thing to do.  He is completely confident in his decisions right up until the first outside voice that intrudes upon his conversation with himself.

 The outside voice is that of God, who says, “Fool!”

“Fool, this very night your life is demanded of you.  And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”

Now normally at this point in looking at the text we might be tempted to press a point of personal stewardship, for that is surely here.  What do you do with the abundance of things given to you?  Do you include God in your conversations about what to do with the blessings you have received?

We just had the experience of the Mega-Millions Lottery becoming the “Mega-Billions” and so our media and new outlets have tried to find analogies as to what you could do with the jackpot if one won it.   Those are attempts to put some perspective as to the size of the amounts, so they will tell us how many fancy cars one could purchase, how many vacations one could take, the size of yachts one could buy.

Curiously enough though, when they go on the street and ask people what they would do if they won the lottery, while there is some dreaming of material things, the responses usually turn very quickly to helping others.   “Paying off my kids college, their mortgage, getting my parents a retirement home…”

They “shift” the focus of the conversation from luxuries to necessities, needs, doing for others.

I also want to shift the focus here, not to personal stewardship, but rather to the matter of relationship.  

What prompts the conversation and the parable is really a relationship issue. 

The man and his brother are not seeing eye to eye.  They are in disagreement as to what to do, and so the course of action advocated is to find an amicable route for the parting of ways.  “Tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me!”

At the core, this is a parable about relationship.  

It is about what you do in times of disagreement and the choices that are made.

It is about how decisions will be made, and who you are or will listen to as you make them.

Who are you, who are we talking to as we consider what to do with the blessings we have received, or the difficulties we are having with those who are supposed to be close to us?  

Are our conversations rich in inquiring of God and of our neighbor?    

Are our conversations rich in seeking understanding of the best course of action as it relates to our relationship with others?

Or do our conversations tend toward insisting on our own way, and finding ways to dismiss others?  

Do we listen and consult Jesus as we interact with one another, or do we seek to use God as some justification for the actions for which we have already made up our minds?

The man who came to Jesus asking for the inheritance to be divided had a particular vision for what he wanted to see happen.

The tragedy is that his vision did not include remaining in relationship with anyone else in his family.

So, the Parable Jesus tells opens up the need for one to have deep conversations with someone besides oneself, or similar disaster is sure to befall!

I know that if the only person I’m talking to is myself, well I can talk myself into almost anything, and not necessarily the things that make for life.  

I can talk myself into some very foolish behavior!

So today, I just want to let this phrase haunt and hover over us for a while.

Who are we talking to?   

Who are we listening to?

Are we discerning what God would have us do with the abundance in our lives, not just of things, but also relationships?

Are our conversations around here rich in inquiring of God and of our neighbor, of their need and of our own ability to give?

Are our conversations here ones that seek of Jesus to help us understand our differences, to listen intently, and to seek reconciliation with those who differ from us, or are we asking Jesus to help us cut them loose so we can take what belongs to us and walk away?

Sooner or later the voice of God will break in upon every closed conversation to remind us of our limitations and mortality.  

May we be ready for it when it comes.

May we seek out conversations with God and with our neighbors that will reveal to us what to best do with our abundance that ultimately leads to life.

“Lord, Teach Us to Pray” Luke 11:1-13

“Lord, teach us to pray as John taught his disciples.” 

On occasion I get the opportunity to observe my grandsons at play.  I listen and watch as they absorb experiences, pick up words and phrases, get lost in books now and more deftly maneuver video game controllers than I ever will! 

So much of learning is simply a matter of observing, mimicking, and repetition.

So, part of me wonders what the disciples learned about prayer just from simply observing Jesus, and whether that seemed to be “enough” for them?  

Clearly, they learned much from accompanying Jesus, but they also seem to express a need to be instructed.  When the disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray, they ask to be taught as “John taught his disciples.”

We know that John the Baptizer’s life was one of being set apart from the rest of society out in the wilderness.  

We know he had certain dietary choices, fasting was a part of his regimen, living off the land, eating a prophet’s diet of “locusts and wild honey.”

The “Baptism for repentance” that John practiced had a tactile element, either symbolic of ritual washing or dying and rising through submerging into water. 

These unique “practices,” strange though they may have seemed to outsiders, were nevertheless unique to John and a sign of who he was and what following him would look like.

Similarly, we read in the gospels that the Pharisees had distinctive prayer practices.  They wore ash and sackcloth, prayed loudly on the street corners, calling attention to themselves and their prayers.

So, when the disciples ask Jesus to teach them to prayer, they are probably looking for similar practices.  What are the actions or the recognizable techniques that will be the “mark” of a follower of Jesus?

When Jesus teaches on prayer, however, he seems to employ no such outward signs or actions.   The direction given is to pray in secret, close the door, wash your face, be going about your regular business. 

Jesus’ teaching on prayer is focused on understanding relationships.

Jesus gives instruction on relationship to his followers.   The teaching on “how to pray” is remarkably less about any techniques than it is about attending to really five aspects of relationship. 

          How one addresses God…

          What one is to look for in the midst of prayer…

          What one is to ask for…

          What is expected by God of one who is lifts up the prayer…

          And finally, what one is to watch out for in this relationship.

The first aspect of prayer is how one addresses God.  “Father, hallowed be your name.”  

Jesus takes two apparently opposite understandings and places them in a dynamic tension.   

You can call God – “daddy” (Abba) – father- because God desires that kind of intimacy.

But, this God whom you are calling “Abba” is also Holy, sanctified, and wholly other from you.

The two ideas are held in tension by this prayer.  

Can we hold these two qualities of God, and our relationship with God in similar tension?  

Can we believe God to be the best possible parent to us always, accepting us no matter what, and also be the one whom we need to hold in awe and reverence?

God is loving, and God is also Holy.  

God exercises authority over us for our own good, but God is also one to whom we can turn to in time of great need because God desires that kind of intimacy with us.  

The second aspect of relationship that Jesus teaches has to do with what to look for when one prays.

One is to look for God’s Kingdom and have a desire for it.  

This is a corrective on seeking only our own self-interest in prayer, focusing only on our own “stuff.” 

God’s Kingdom come.  

Not just what I want, not just what I hope for the future, but rather what God promises, hopes for and intends for this world. 

There is much that God has promised throughout the scriptures about what God’s Kingdom is to be like and how life is shaped in it and by it.

There is much in God’s view of how things are to be ordered that often bumps directly up against what we think should happen, or what would be convenient for us, or in keeping with the way the powers of this world would have things remain. 

So, this petition roots our requests in looking for what God promises and intends, not simply what we would want.  

The third aspect of relationship lifted up in the prayer is about what it is that we can ask for, namely “daily bread.” 

When Luther talked about this petition, he taught that “daily bread” included everything needed for daily life.  Food and clothing, home and family, favorable weather, good government, good neighbors, a good name and work.  

You can pray for all of that, but not just for yourself.  Here there is relationship with neighbor, as the petition is plural.  “Our” daily bread means yours as well your neighbor’s. 

The God who sends the rain on the just and the unjust, who causes the grain to grow and fruit of the vine to prosper is just fine with you asking for what you need – just remember to do so within the context of praying for the same for your neighbor. 

In God’s Kingdom, all are fed, all are loved cared for and all are welcomed.  Let your prayer for daily bread reflect that Kingdom!

A fourth aspect of relationship in the teaching on prayer is attention paid to the reciprocal nature of such relationship. 

The God to whom you pray does indeed expect something from you, and what God expects has to do with your neighbor.

Namely, forgiveness.  

God forgives and has expectation therefore that forgiveness will similarly be granted to those who repent and who seek it, so that relationship can be renewed.

Forgiveness becomes an expectation, not just because God demands something from us but rather because it has to do with how the world is meant to work, and God’s Kingdom!

The ability to forgive is how we find safety and shelter in the presence of one another.  

It is intolerable to live in an environment of suspicion, where grudges are held and trust is absent, blame is ever present and promoted, and where relationship is irreparably broken.  

God will have no part of such a world and will not have us be captive to the kind of bondage that such brokenness perpetuates.

Forgiveness freely given is not just a way of life, it is a way to bring life where otherwise there is only a perpetual cycle of retribution.

The fifth aspect of relationship found in the prayer taught is “do not bring us to the time of trial”, or “a place of temptation.” 

This may be the most perplexing of the things that Jesus teaches us to pray about.   Surely God would not bring us to temptation?

But, here’s the thing, (and we see it in Luke’s Gospel.)   Jesus is given the gift of the Holy Spirit in baptism, and the first thing the gift of the Spirit does is “Lead” him out into the wilderness for the purpose of prayer and fasting – all good things to do! 

What happens when he gets out there?  The devil shows up!

 As it turns out, most of the temptations we experience all have to do with the “good things” that we’ve been given. 

In this part of the prayer, we are reminded what to watch out for!  

Get a raise?  The first thought that enters your mind is usually not, “how can I share more of this with others, how can I help my neighbor?”   

No, the first thought or “temptation” that comes with that blessing given is to think of what you can do with it for yourself!

“Now I can afford…”

The God who blesses you with daily bread, (which is something for which you are encouraged to pray!) also recognizes that with the giving of blessing comes the temptation to use such blessings for one’s own purposes and benefits, — forgetting about God’s Kingdom and the needs of the neighbor!

Not getting any blessings would of course take care of those temptations.  

God, however, will not leave, abandon, or forsake us.  The blessings of this creation come because God is generous beyond imagination, and like a doting “daddy” who sometimes can’t help it, just gives to delight in watching children’s faces light up.

So, in this aspect we are praying for what to watch out for and what to trust in. 

We watch out for miss-use or abuse, being led astray by what we have been given.  

We pray to not forsake God’s kingdom in deference to setting up a kingdom of our own.

“My” stuff, my possessions, my goods and grain, building silos to store up treasures here on earth instead of seeking the welfare of all and bringing in the Kingdom.

We trust that God in giving blessing to us has also given us the wisdom to choose what is good and right, and if not, we pray for correction!  “Lead us not into being tempted by our own schemes and ambitions!”

And, in the midst of attending to the relationship with our blessings and with God, help us to look back up to reminders of the Kingdom, the call to forgive, to restore us to right relationship with God and with one another.

These five aspects, –How one addresses God…

          What one is to look for in the midst of prayer…

          What one is to ask for…

          What is expected by God of the one who is lifting up prayers…

And finally, what one is to watch out for.

It’s all about relationship!

This is what Jesus teaches when his own disciples asked him to teach them to pray. 

May we learn how to attend to relationship with God and with one another in the same way. 

Teach us, Jesus, how to focus on God’s Kingdom and our neighbor, not wanting to just set up a kingdom of our own. 

“Jesus, Do You Not Care?” Luke 10:38-42

For as long as I’ve known this story of Mary and Martha, the focus has always ended up being about the polarized positions of the two and the contrast between them.

          Martha with her busy-ness, scurrying around in a flurry of pots, pans and preparations.

          Mary with her fervent devotion sitting at Jesus’ feet, hanging on his every word.

          Which one should one be, a Mary or a Martha?  

That’s usually what we jump to when the story is told.  We think we hear in this episode a commendation for Mary and a reprimand of Martha.

Except, we don’t. Look at the story again.   

Jesus does not tell Martha that she should sit down and listen up.  He doesn’t dismiss what she does in attending to the honorable obligation of extending hospitality.   For heaven’s sake, he’s tired and worn out from travel and probably looking forward to a good home cooked meal!

Nor does Jesus tell Mary to get off her duff and go help her sister!

Mary has simply made her choice, and it is (as it turns out) an excellent one for her!  She shouldn’t be discouraged from having made it.  She has chosen the “better part” Jesus says, which he assures will not be taken away from her, despite Martha’s complaint and wish for her to help.

If you are looking at this story to either justify your own busy-ness or your desire to just sit and listen, you will really find neither here.

What is modelled instead is something with which we’re not exactly sure what to do, and increasingly so it appears.

What is modelled is listening, observing, and reflecting—on the part of Jesus.

Martha tries unsuccessfully to rally Jesus to her own point of view.  

“Jesus, do you not care?” she spouts in a fit of apparent frustration, pointing her finger at Mary for leaving her to do all the work on her own.

But Jesus does not bite at her baiting, nor does he reprimand her.  

Instead, what he does is observe and comment.  

He comments not on the situation, or on what is being done, (or not done,) or on who is doing what, but rather on what he sees taking place within both Mary and Martha.

 “You are worried and distracted by many things….”  He says to Martha.

 Is that a description that would fit these times in which we live?   Distractions seem to abound!  

Worries seem to be everywhere!   

There are no lack of speculations about what actions should or should not be taken. 

Indeed, we are told constantly that something should be done, must be done!

Proposals are made, counter proposals are offered, arguments entered into as to which course of action would be best. 

There are no lack of opinions voiced, stances taken or proposals thrown out there for any number of issues that present themselves to us. 

What is increasingly lacking is the kind of “calm in the flurry of activity” that Jesus models here.

What is lacking is the ability to observe and comment, not on the situation, but on what is going on inside the people involved.

Jesus will not tell Martha to sit down.

Jesus will also not tell Mary to jump to her feet, either out of guilt or desire to help her sister.

What Jesus does in this particular moment is to point out the choices that have been made by each.

He then reflects on what those choices are doing to the individuals who have made them.

Mary has chosen.

Martha is “worried and distracted.”

And Jesus?  

Well, he is there with both of them, right in the middle of their respective states.  

Apparently, he won’t be pulled into taking sides or making pronouncements or urging actions.

Frustrating, isn’t it?

“Do you not care, Jesus?”   Martha blurts out.

We can see how Martha’s question surfaces, for it also surfaces in us.

We watch as the world seems to spin horribly out of control.   

Violence begets violence.   

Injustice advances, in far off lands, and right on our own streets.   

Desperate and frustrated people take up firearms, lay siege to the capital, lay plots and plans for revenge and the forcing of hands or the retention of power.   

The innocent suffer.

The unaware are caught off guard. 

“Do you not care, Jesus?”  We want to say, scream at the top of our lungs.   

We want Jesus to do something, raise up a great leader, restrain the evil in our midst, address the inequality that breeds contempt, squashes hope, and that renders helpless.

“Do you not care, Jesus?  How can you just sit there when….?”

And there it is, our very own Mary/Martha moment.

A moment when we realize that Jesus is doing something.  He is sitting in our midst.

“You are worried and distracted by many things, there is need of only one thing needed.”   His words still echo across time and circumstances.  

What is making us worried and distracted?  Have we lost sight that God is with us in the midst of it all?

And what is the “one thing” that eludes us?

Could it not be what Jesus models?  Learning how to observe and listen? How to understand the motivations of others?  

Learning how to withhold one’s comments, not engage in side taking, until we have clarity on the situation, and beyond that, can speak to what we see going on inside of others.

This is what is in short supply in this world and in this day and age.

There are far too many people who are trying to justify themselves, trying to set themselves up as saviors, trying to “do” things even if what they are doing is wrong.

There are far too many people who have opinions on what direction they believe everyone else should go, have to go, need to go, in order to make things work.

There are far too many distractions from a centered life.   

The demands of the hospitality codes seem to have set Martha in opposition to Mary.   

The “worry” of doing hospitality right, or enough, or adequately has affected their relationship. 

They are in disagreement on what to do, even and maybe because Jesus is in their presence!   

And, because conflict is what we tend to key in on, we assume that one of the sisters must be right and one must be “wrong.”

We assume that Jesus’ role in the story is to sort that out for them.  Make some pronouncement that favors one over the other.

But that’s not what happens at all.

This is an unresolved story.   

We don’t know how it ends. Whether Mary ever got up to help, or Martha stopped rushing around so.

We only know that what Jesus seems to be doing here is attending to the relationships by acknowledging what appears to be going on inside of both of them.

As Jesus attends or acknowledges what he sees going on inside of both of them, the distraction, the worry, the turmoil, the contentment — a possibility is opened up.

You have to look inside yourself.

So Martha, you are worried and distracted…..one thing is needed.  Mary has made her choice and is at peace with it.

Are you at peace with your choice? The one you have made?  

This is a terribly unsatisfying sermon, I know.

You’d like me to tell you what the “one thing” is that you ought to be attending to, so that you could check it off your list and get moving on it.

You’d like me to validate the work ethic of Martha, tell you that the more you do as a congregation or as an individual, the more beloved by God you would be, —  but that is not Grace.

 Or, maybe you’d like me encourage all the “Mary’s” around here to get busy!

 Encourage people to join the altar guild, or run for council, teach Sunday School or get to work around here. 

You’d like me, (like we’d like Jesus,) to make a few things clear and bring some resolution to the messy affair that is life together in this place.

Or, at very least, you’d like me to join you in a good rousing chorus of “Do you not care, Jesus…”

Lifting up the plight of the church, the nation, the community, or whatever else happens to be distracting us particularly this week.

Sometimes I’ll find myself tempted to do just that, raise my voice with Martha’s, but not today.

Today I’m just standing here befuddled at Jesus’ calmness in the midst of it all.

Today I’m looking for his insight into us, and his willingness to just sit with us, both in our calm assurance and in our anxious and frenzied actions.

Today I’m dumbfounded by the kind of Grace that seems all too scarce these days.

The ability that Jesus models to accept people where they are, and to love them for who they are, for the choices they have made, for the actions they’ve taken, and then to listen and affirm them for what they see as most important, the choices they have made.

Will we make the choice for the better part, the better portion to carve out and hold on to that which we know is within our reach for only a short time?

Or, will we continue to shake our fist and have the audacity to demand that Jesus fix things for us, and preferably in the way we think they should be fixed!

That is the question that the Gospel leaves us all with today.

Jesus persists in doing that one thing that it seems only he can do in such distracting and worrying times.  

Jesus persists in being a calm and constant presence with us, helping us sort out what is going on inside.

“An End to Justifying” Luke 10:25-37

This parable is fertile ground for preaching.  There is so much that Jesus opens up and examines in the telling of it, and lots of ink has been spilled mining its depths, so one has to kind of pick an angle from which to start.

The Lawyer is wanting to “justify himself.”  We are told.   He asks a deeper question of Jesus than one that pertained just to the reading of the law.  He appears to want to be clear about any expectations that may be placed upon him. 

“And who is my neighbor?” he asks.

In his answer, Jesus then introduces a scenario for consideration.  Within the parable are these characters of the Priest, Levite, the robbers, and the man who fell in among them lying by the side of the road.  

From the start then, Jesus pushes the understanding of neighbor to widening circles.

One approach to this parable is to try to examine the motivations of the characters, their “justifications” for what they do, or the reasons they end up where they are.  

So, you’ve probably heard sermons as to why the Priest and Levite might have been on that road and why they may not have stopped, or about the man’s reasons for traveling this notoriously dangerous road all by himself.  You may have heard sermons on the surprise in the story of the hated one, the Samaritan, ending up being the hero in the end. 

But today, I’m not much interested in any of those angles.

Today, what I find myself focusing on is how this is really the end of all attempts at justifying.

The parable is told to one who is attempting to “justify himself.”   But, it seems that Jesus’ response is meant to put an end to the lawyer’s attempts to do that.

It is told in such a way that all motivations are stripped away, (which is why the preacher or reader is so tempted to speculate about them!)

Those who one would think would have compassion in the story do not seem very compassionate.

The one who should be they enemy, the last person you’d expect to have anything at all to do with someone “coming out of Jerusalem” is the one who ends up being “moved with compassion” and rendering aid.    

There is no motivation for the Samaritan to do what he does except that in the story the Samaritan is the lone individual imbued with the quality that is usually reserved for God or God’s agent.  

The Samaritan is given the quality of compassion!    

He is (in the Greek word used) –“moved in the gut” at what he sees in the ditch.   

That Samaritan alone reacts not with justifications, calculations, or consideration of implications.   He simply reacts out of compassion for what he sees.

By the end of the parable the need to justify is all but moot. 

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell in among robbers?”  Jesus asks.

It is this acting out of compassion for what one has seen that seems to silence all manner of justification.

So, I’m going to make the sermon really short.   

For crying out loud, we know this story backward and forward by now! 

We can feel Jesus’ relentless insistence to strip away all the justifications made by those involved or speculated about. 

Jesus compresses the answer to the lawyer’s question all down to the level of whether or not one is willing to respond to the wounded with compassion.

Yes, it really is that simple, and it is that hard!

The charge given to us by the Savior in the parable is to “Go and do likewise.”

Our task then is to act, live and speak out of the same gut wrenching-quality of compassion for what we see that God seems to have!

The “Go and do likewise” is the call to act out of compassion, rather than to seek reasons for acting or more importantly, for not acting!

This parable is meant to be the end of seeking to justifying ourselves.

“Go and do likewise” Jesus says, and we begin to recognize how hard that is for us, for it appears to be in our very nature to always seek to be “justifying ourselves.”   

It is in our very nature to weigh options, to consider motivations, to look for the “how will this help me?” or “how much will this cost me?” angle on everything.

We see that in the political campaigns.

We witness it in the actions of legislatures and municipalities.

This world is built on a “tit for tat” system of justifications.     

From candidates who call each other crooked or liars instead of talking about substantive issues, to kids on the playground who cry out and complain, “She hit me first!”

Oh, the desire to justify ourselves runs deep within us and it does tend to open up our “ugly.”  

The need to justify the actions taken or withheld, to hold on to the privilege on has, or to discount the experience of others runs deep.

We raise our arguments, and our counter arguments go up. Lines are drawn, divides go up, trust is shattered. 

Calls go out for the building of walls, for the excluding of “those others,” name calling begins, labeling takes place, identification of who is, or who is not to be trusted, who is enemy, who is evil.  Segregations are proposed as a means of “keeping us safe” or making sure “it never happens again.”

“Someone should really do something about that road from Jerusalem to Jericho, after all.”

Such calls are always ultimately a smokescreen against compassion. 

It is far easier to ignore the bodies in the street in order to protect the privilege.  

There is always one more thing to consider, one more thing to watch out for, one more unforeseen circumstance, one more important right to protect rather than address the wounded and their immediate needs.

Always another “And who is my neighbor” question that we can raise.

This parable is the end of that!

In this parable Jesus gives us just one directive, one mode of operation, and one way of responding.

Proper response is found in “following the gut wrench” and then moving to help. 

It is found in having empathy and mercy.

Mercy is what shows you who your neighbor is.

Compassion for them is what drives away the divides, the questions, and the pain. 

Acting out of compassion will compel you to move toward the ugliness instead of being repulsed by it. 

You go to where the ugliness is, not to observe or gawk at it with morose fascination, but rather to understand the wounds inflicted and to find a way to stop the bleeding!   

It is acting out of such compassion that puts you in contact with raw flesh, deep pain as you bind the wounds of neighbor.  

It is costly.  

Mercy is costly to the one who gives it, extends it, and acts out of it, with no expectation of repayment.

 There is even an expectation that it will probably cost more than we think, and that’s o.k. so long as the one who is bloodied and beaten is restored and made whole.

So it is, that Christ Jesus will also suffer the fate of the man in the ditch, for the sake of being able to bind the wounds of this world.

Here is the truth today, we’re all a bit bloodied and beaten. 

The events of this past week have rather beat us up and left us all in the ditch.

We are dumbfounded and shocked that once again a black life has been lost at the hands of those sworn to serve and to protect.

We are aghast that in Japan, a world leader can be shot dead, wounded at how far-flung violence and rage seem to be spreading in our world.

We are numb and incensed that we can no longer attend a Fourth of July parade without finding ourselves listening intently to see if we can discern the difference between gunfire and fireworks.

We’re beat up.  

We need some compassion from a God who comes to find us and who promises to bind our wounds and carry us to a place of safety, and who will pay whatever it takes and more to help us mend.   

A God who will not ask us to “justify ourselves” or our actions, or to fess up as to how we ended up there in the ditch in the first place.

There is no time for that. 

No time for any recriminations or justifications anymore.

Now, to the bloodied and the beaten and those who still seek to justify their actions there is only one response that is appropriate.  

Compassion.

And this ends up being the key.   

Anytime you feel the urge to “justify yourself” or to explain, or to rant, or to philosophize about events… that is the moment that you too need to recognize that you have missed Jesus’ invitation to “Go and do likewise.”

That is the moment when you have ceased to be paying attention to acting out of Christ-like compassion.

That is the moment when you have ceased to be neighbor, and instead have become lawyer, justifier, evader, — and maybe just a little bit dead inside yourself, for you are not feeling the pull in your gut of your neighbor’s plight.

This is hard, no doubt about it, this “Go and do likewise” thing.   Jesus knows full well how gut wrenching this will be for us all.

It will take us having the mind of Christ and God’s grace extended to us, and not our own mind taking over, to make us stop always seeking to “justify ourselves.”

“Sent To You by Jesus.” Luke 10:1-20

Hospitality has become a lost art in our society, and I’m not sure exactly what caused it to disappear.

As a child I remember how important it was to offer guests “a little lunch” when they came to visit, which usually meant in my rural community, a full spread. 

Coffee, cookies, sandwiches and whatever else you had to offer.  It was a showplace for home-made jam, pickles, or sausage.  Hospitality was simply a part of the expectation of the day, how a visit ended, and conversation that it all prompted.  

I’m not sure how we lost that sense of extending hospitality to others.  When was the last time you simply went over to a neighbor or friend’s house “just to visit?”  

It is hard to extend or receive hospitality if there are no opportunities for it.   

It could be that we lost our sense of hospitality with the advent of fast food places, where one could always find a meal whenever one needed one, and to one’s own tastes. 

Such luxuries did not exist in ancient Palestine, nor in rural America in a generation past.

Maybe we stopped offering hospitality when we decided we could make our own way in this world and not inconvenience others.

It could also be that we lost our sense of hospitality along with our innocence.   We see the world now as a much more dangerous place filled with strangers and people who should be viewed with suspicion.

The “Ring” doorbell has made a surveillance state of every neighborhood, where a curious person on a walk who stops to admire the flowers planted is assumed to be “casing your home.”  

There was a day when traveling salespeople plied their trade and instead of surveilling them from your phone, you would invite them in to hear what they had to say or what news they might bring.

Those days are gone.   

Because we’ve lost the sense of urgency or need for hospitality, this directive of Jesus to the Seventy seems to either nostalgic or completely foreign to us.

          Can we even imagine how this story would play itself out in our world today?  What kind of reception those Seventy would receive?

One way of finding a different angle on a bible story is to turn the expectations around from how one usually considers it.

Normally, we read this story and assume because we are followers of Jesus that we are the ones being sent out two by two.   Commissioned by Jesus, we are sent to do the work of the apostles.  

We are the ones who are to extend peace.

We are the ones who are to be the recipients of the hospitality of others.

We are to eat whatever is placed before us, heal the sick, and proclaim the kingdom – and shake off the dust from our feet if we are not well received! 

We assume that we are the “sent ones” in the story, and then wonder and fret about how we would be received, what we would find, whether or not we would be able to do that?

But here is the thing.

We really struggle with the notion of being sent!

We are much more at ease with people coming to us than we are with going out to find others.  

That’s why we go to church, after all, to “meet up” with others who are settled like us! 

We come here as if this were our home, with expectations of the kind of greeting that we will receive here.  We will be received by folks who are glad to see us (by and large.)  We will partake of the kind of music that we expect, have the orderliness of “our” liturgy, partake of the meal that we are accustomed to receiving with all the etiquette that we assume everyone who comes here already knows.

We even call this our “church home” don’t we?

When we think about it, we are much more in the camp of being the ones who are receiving visitors than the ones who are “going out.”

So, does that change the way we hear this Gospel lesson?  

Who is it that God is sending our way! 

Who is being sent to us as messengers of the Kingdom that is approaching?

Hang with me here for just a second, because I do think this does matter!

While we are indeed sent as emissaries of God to those whom we meet, we dare not lose sight of the fact that all those villages to whom Jesus sent the disciples originally not foreigners or Gentiles. 

Jesus sent his disciples to people who already believed in God.  

He sent them to people who had been steeped in Jewish traditions, who knew the Torah, who looked for the coming of Messiah and who hungered for a prophet to arise.

Those disciples were sent with a new message, “The Kingdom of God has come near!” 

The disciples are not going to introduce anyone to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God who Led out of bondage and spoke through the prophets.   Those whom they went to along the route to Jerusalem knew all of that already!  They worshiped regularly, even Samaritans, just in a different location than Jerusalem.

The message brought was not, “Let me tell you about God” – whom you know nothing about.

No, the message was “God is doing a new thing!” – IN YOUR MIDST – will you receive that?  

Will you be at peace with that?

The God who is sending us, is also in the habit of sending others to us.  

We tend to forget that!

Hospitality runs both ways!   You have to have a visitor, and you have one who will receive what the visitor brings!  

Possessive of our village and our way of life, we sometimes view those who are sent to us with a certain amount of suspicion, do we not?

“Does anyone know who that visitor was?”

How well are we doing the task of hospitality to those who are sent to us?  Do we view them as representatives of the kingdom, announcing a “new thing” that is about to happen?

It’s worth pondering because we are entering into the Call process.  

Bethel may not be used to this, as it has enjoyed a series of long term pastorates, but in a very real way every pastorate is a bit like this story in Luke. 

One is being sent to you with a message.  

It is not that you don’t know who God is!   You have a long and rich history of following God, of traditions, and of Lutheran theology.

None of that is in question. 

The question is, how will you receive the one whom Jesus sends to you? The one who begins to talk with you about how God is about to do a “new thing” in your midst?  How the Kingdom is coming near?

The Kingdom of God has most certainly come nearer than it has ever been. Will you join in welcome with the stranger who bears such news, who shows up at your door and in your midst, whoever that stranger may be?

Rick Steves, the travel author and public television personality encourages in his guidebooks that travelers become what he likes to call “temporary locals.”  

When you go somewhere instead of waltzing in like you know everything or like you should be catered to, try to engage the world of everyday life in that place to which you travel. 

Avoid the tourist traps that will cater to you and look instead for where the locals shop, eat, and spend their time. 

Then, engage them there!

Let them teach you about how it is that they live.  Learn from them what is important to them, and what they think is wondrous about their home country. 

Becoming a “temporary local” gives you an appreciation for their culture, their experience, and their way of life.   

That, in turn, gives you the permission and opportunity to talk about what is important to you, what gifts you might bring to this place, what you would want them to know and understand about you!  A chance to tell them what you observe as wondrous about them and this place.

But, to get there, to become that “temporary local?”  Well, you do have to take seriously both elements of hospitality!

You have to receive what is put before you, yes, as well as bring something into the experience yourself.

Hospitality is found in both the sending out and the reception that one receives.  There is a partnership between those sent, and those who welcome them.

Will “peace” be received here? 

Can we find a common ground upon which exchanges can be made?  How the Kingdom can be brought near and built?

In many ways, that is what this thing called “Interim ministry” is all about.   

It is about me becoming a “temporary local” in your community.  

It is me coming to learn about where you live and asking questions about your life that helps you then to examine what is good about this place, what you cherish, how God has met you here! 

It’s also about you receiving what I come to offer.   God is about to do a “new thing” here.  The Kingdom of God is just a little bit nearer, and God will be sending someone new into your midst.

How will you receive that one who comes? 

The one who comes not to tell you about God, (you already know that!) but rather who comes to announce that a “new thing” is happening in your midst, a “God thing” that is about the Kingdom coming near! 

How will you receive this one who comes as someone to bring you peace, and to discover what this “new thing” God has in mind for both of you might be.

 “Whoever listens to you, listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

That is what Jesus said.

Maybe we are being called to venture out in new directions with a message of the coming Kingdom to others.  

The call to proclaim is certainly a part of our ministry understanding.

But maybe, just maybe, we must also consider that Kingdom is impinging us,  upon our little village here as God offers peace and new beginnings through the one who is sent to you, whoever that may be. How will we receive those sent to us by Jesus?