It is tempting, when difficult things happen, to try and explain why, to point to God’s agency or motive for setting things upon us. While we can, and often do learn things from our hardships, “In God all things work for good”, It is not our main call as Christians to explain away the terrible things. In fact, I think, we tend to use this as a means to avoid wrestling with our own feelings, or acknowledging the wrongness of situation. Perhaps we feel that if we were to complain, it would show a lack of faith—show that we don’t think God is good, or in control…
But, Christianity offers us a way to lament that leads to hope. What is lament? A lament is actually praise, It is a proof of relationship, It is a type of prayer, It is participation in the pain of others It is a type of prayer: Lament in the Bible is not simply an outlet for our frustrations. It is a form of prayer. Many of the laments in the psalms are calls to action. They plead with God to pay attention to them and to act on their behalf. And, in so doing, they turn to praise—praising God for being a God of justice and righteousness, for being faithful in the past. They appeal to God for help on the grounds of God’s unfailing love. Laments bring all the pain before God. And then they turn to praise—reminding of God’s promise which we see in Christ—that death never gets the last word. That life, and goodness, and light will win. Goodness is stronger than evil; Love is stronger than hate; Light is stronger than darkness; Life is stronger than death; Our lament is our living, active, bold relationship with God. It is also our solidarity with each other, with the earth, with all who are hurting. By trusting God enough so as to share our vulnerability, we open ourselves up to the healing power of Christ—we open ourselves to the presence of the one who stands with us in lament. By crying out to God, who we know stands against the death, suffering, and pain in the world, we show our faith in the victory of Jesus Christ over death. In that faith, may God work on our hearts and make us to be bearers of Christ’s light for the world. May our lament be a path to hope, and our hope show the light of his kingdom. In lament, we bring our frustrations and grief before God, then with each small step we are able to take forward, we become Jesus’ visible presence in the world. We become the sign of God at work even amidst the trouble of the world. I love the lines from this hymn, that to me express that very thought: When the poor ones who have nothing are still giving When the thirsty pass the cup, water to share When the wounded offer others strength and healing We see God, here by our side, walking our way. Lament is not our final prayer. It is a prayer in the meantime. Because Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, we know that sorrow is not how the story ends. Light is stronger than darkness; Life is stronger than death; The sorrow may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning! We lift our lament to God, and we trust in the victory of Christ over the powers of death. With shouts of “Hallelujah” we move forward, together, seeing God here, by our side, in one another, walking our way. VBS is such a fun program—or any sort of Bible Camp experience for that matter. And why is that? Is it because of the music and the games?
Well sure, but not just because they are music and games. Maybe it’s the novelty of it—music just a little different than the regular, and permission to run around and play while at church (or a church-related event): that certainly is unique. At VBS, or at Bible Camp, you get to connect to the stories and the lessons with so much of yourself. They didn’t just hear the Bible story in a worship setting, or read it together as a class…the story took them to various parts of the world! They learned to paint in a style that used amate, a paper made from a tree bark in Mexico—they learned about some struggles that farmers there face in growing food. They learned about sculptures from soapstone deposits in Zimbabwe. Zimbabwe was the place they learned about when they discussed health crises. They made pencil cases when they learned about Guatemala and how education for girls is not always a reality. The Lord’s Prayer took them around the world and engaged their creativity in making crafts. They used their bodies and voices as they sang and danced to the songs. The used relationships and teamwork on the games and simulation lessons. They read and listened to stories. They prayed and learned together. Can you think of any ability or skill, or part of themselves that wasn’t engaged? It’s the same with all our own lives, isn’t it? There is no part of us that our baptism does not apply to. There is nothing about us that does not fall under that central prayer: your kingdom come, your will be done, give us our daily bread, forgive us as we forgive. Maybe VBS is so much fun because it is a clear and short reminder of what our whole life of faith is. It isn’t just worship on Sunday morning, but it is what we do in our work; it is how we are with our family; it is how we treat all those around us; and it is how we live and advocate for God’s kingdom to be realized in ALL the world. Today our world faces many things that our faith would call us to. Many places where the we can be the hands and feet of God at work. Actually, it’s kind of a lot…and can be overwhelming. That’s why we have a body of Christ that is more than just any one of us. Each of us do not have to do all of it. Some of you may feel a tug toward Haiti, who had a devastating earthquake, a tropical storm, and fears aftershocks. Lutheran World Relief is a great organization to get connected with if you want help there. Some of you may be thinking about the wildfires in the West of our own country. Lutheran Disaster Response is taking help now for that. Afghanistan of course, has many looking for shelter and safety. And may troops to support as they arrive home. There is the ongoing pandemic, distribution of vaccines to areas of the world that are not getting them. There are likely many things in your own household and your own family to which your life of faith is calling you. No one of us can do it all. All we can do is focus on one thing at a time. As the whole body of Christ, his kingdom will indeed come. As people of faith, baptized into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, our whole selves are caught up in the work of Jesus’ kingdom on earth. From our worship, to our play, to our work, to our creativity, to our generosity… and a VBS experience is a good reminder of that. So let this simple (as in a single thing, not something easy) exercise of our attempting to do the actions to these songs throughout worship today, be your reminder we are God’s people everywhere, and in every aspect of our lives. May that be encouragement to you as you face your days. May you feel a sense of strength and empowerment that God is with you, that Jesus sends others to help, And above all, may you be reminded that you are totally loved and adored by God. We’ve been in this bread series for many weeks now. It has been going all through the 6th chapter of John’s gospel, in order, taking it one story or perplexing phrase at a time.
Here’s where we’ve been: First, the story of Jesus feeding a multitude. The story starts with Jesus and his disciples trying to hide away a bit from the crowds. Jesus has been among the people, healing and helping those who were sick. Now he takes his crew across the sea and heads up a mountain to sit down for a bit. But as soon as they get settled, a huge crowd appears. Jesus challenges his disciples about finding enough to feed the crowd, and they cannot imagine how they, or what they have, might be enough for such a large task. Sometimes we feel like what we have, what we are isn’t enough. For the people around Jesus who are sick, or hurt, or the like…they find that Jesus gives something that makes them enough again, makes them have value in the world—what he gives them is his kingdom; he lets them into his kingdom. So, in display of that, Jesus brings the kingdom to that crowd and feeds the multitude. In that story, we see that Jesus, the Bread of Life, sees you as whole, complete, valuable, and surely enough. What you have to contribute, however small it might seem to you, is enough in God’s eyes, and God will continue to do amazing things through little old us, with our meager offerings. Then, the second week, Jesus began explaining himself as the bread of life with the image familiar to his crowd of manna given in the wilderness. After he fed the multitudes, which was after he healed the sick, the crowds were following him relentlessly and they wanted a sign from him. He called them out that they are only following him for the food and told them about how what he gives is more than just food…he gives himself, and he is the bread of God that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world. What he gives is eternal life, or a life of the ages. We explored both the quality and quantity of "Eternal Life". Jesus gives what I wanted to call an “unrelenting aliveness” that moves into unending life through himself, received in the bread and wine at His table. Eternal life, or a life of the ages, isn’t only a life that doesn’t end, but it’s also a kind of life full of meaning and purpose, a life of belonging, a life of connection, and a life with hope. It’s a “life worth living” kind of life: We heard that each week, we come to the table to hear, and taste, and experience the good news that Through this bread, in this meal, in Christ: You are given meaning…And purpose…And belonging…And connection…And hope. You are given Jesus. And in him you have a never-ending life of unrelenting aliveness. Then last week, Jesus describes himself as the bread of life come down from heaven. What does it mean that Jesus is here, giving life to the world? We paired that with the story of a tired, mad, and defeated Elijah—who after, not just one, but two, good naps and a snack prepared by an angel—was able to go on, having found his strength in God’s good gifts. Jesus came to save us tired, hungry, and thirsty people and offer himself as nourishment. And, as we said each week, we experience that presence of Jesus through the people around us who remind us to take care of ourselves, and that we matter to God, just as we are called, when we’re able, to remind others of their worth in Christ. This week is the fourth week of the bread series. Today, the words of Jesus that perplex the crowd are: “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life.” We find deep meaning in these words in light of the sacrament of holy communion. Aside from our practice of communion, those words are very strange, indeed. But Jesus’ words throughout this passage are about way more than just taking communion. I find myself thinking about how when Jesus says “those who eat my flesh and drink my blood..” it describes just how fully and completely he offers himself to us. In our Proverbs reading, Lady Wisdom sets a banquet. It describes how detailed, how carefully, how precisely, all the things she does to get ready to serve this feast. She has built her house, (not just rents a site, but,) she has hewn her seven pillars. She has slaughtered her animals, (that is, prepared the meat.) Think of the effort and time that goes into something like a good Texas barbeque…hours and days spent tending the wood fire to smoke that perfect brisket. That’s the kind of preparation I imagine here. She has mixed her wine, (right, she prepared all the drinks) she has also set her table (which, by the sound of it, has a lot of place settings) She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, (inviting, everyone) How long, how much work, how much of herself did she put into this meal? How many of you know what it is to put your heart and soul into something? Maybe it’s cooking for your family or a party, or maybe it’s another kind of offering. You put your own blood, sweat, and tears into something and just hope that it’s well received. Jesus, in offering his body and blood, is like that. Providing a great gift, the gift of life, if only we would take him up on the offer. But again, it’s not just about taking communion…it’s that, too. But it’s also about being nourished, fully, in Jesus’ name. It’s being transformed by him—having his “stuff” coursing through our system and growing us up as kingdom people, as Jesus people. We wants us to be fed, nourished, and transformed by him. One image for thinking about this is of a book: a book on shelf vs. reading a book (Barclay pg. 231) When Jesus said we must drink his blood he meant that we must take his life into the very center and core of our heats. Think of it this way. Here in a bookcase is a book which someone has never read. It may be the glory and wonder of the tragedies of Shakespeare. One may have bought that book, but so long as it remains unread upon their bookshelves, it is external to them. It remains outside them. But then one day they take it down and read it. They are thrilled and fascinated and moved. The story sticks to them; the great lines remain in their memory; now when they want to, they can take that wonder out from inside themselves and remember it and think about it and feed their mind and heart upon it. Once the book was external to them, on their shelf. Now it has gotten inside them, and they can feed upon it. That is one image. But I came upon another that I found far more significant. It’s an image that I’d never be able to authentically use myself, but one that is only accessible to a mother. It was a story about mother and child. She told of the struggles and difficulty of learning to feed her child after it was born. How they both shared frustration—the baby at leaning to eat, the mother learning to nurse. This “natural” business not coming naturally at all. It moved into joy as they settled into a rhythm, became in sync with each other. And the mother’s amazement on reflecting on learning what it is to give herself away, to delight in a fullness other than her own, to be nourished by the act of nourishing. Reflecting on what it is to BECOME food. Imagine Jesus as a mother, giving her very self away to nourish her children. Hoping we learn to eat, aching when we are hungry and won’t be fed, delighting when we are fed and full, resting in her arms. Her story went on to the child’s adolescence, and a struggle with an eating disorder. How a mother aches to be able to feed her child, but cannot. Jesus pours out his flesh and blood for us. At his table, by him, we are nourished and enter into that kingdom of eternal life. He gives us his body and blood, to be transformed and grown into a strong people, kingdom people, that experience the value, connection, purpose, belonging, and hope that come with eternal life. He gives himself, and he calls us out to share him with all. May you find at the table today, the body and blood of Christ, freely given to you. May you be nourished by him, feel his love poured out to you. May you be transformed and empowered to become what you receive, his body for the life of the world. May you be filled with Jesus’ presence, and strengthened and sustained by him today and always. Today's sermon is a letter inspired by the readings. I drew the idea from a blog which you are welcome to check out here: dancingwiththeword.com/. It's entitled "Elijah, the Get Up and Eat Angel, and God."
In it the author, Rev. Dr. Janet Hunt, wrote three letter, one to each of the characters in the 1 Kings story, then she invited her readers to do the same. So I did. And…well I don’t know how inspiring it is or anything (you can decide that), but it was, for myself, a very meaningful practice. As "homework" I am inviting you to take the chance to do so as well. Go read her letters with the above link, certainly, and you may read mine here as well. Then be sure to write your own. The promise and good news we hear from our two readings working together today is this: God sends us the people in our lives that have helped us through the tough times. The ones who’ve given encouragement, or even just a presence, sometimes a distraction—whatever you’ve needed to get you through. The ones who put everything back into perspective, who remind you that you are too important—to God, to them—to give up here. Like Elijah’s angel, they don’t take away the hardships on the road, but they are Jesus’ presence with us in the midst of it. They make the hard road worth traveling, and remind us of our beloved-ness. And finally, it makes me think: not only when has God reminded me, through others, to “stop: take that nap, eat that snack”, but when am I, as part of the body of Christ, also Jesus’ presence for others? Here is the letter I wrote to Jesus this week. What's yours? Dear Jesus, You said you are the bread of life, the true bread from heaven which comes down and gives life to the world. You say that all who eat the bread will never hunger, that all who drink will never thirst. But we are hungry. We are thirsty. There are so many places in the world that need life—so many places where we only see the opposite—we see division, scorn for fellow humans, we see crisis after crisis: Fire and flood, disease and famine—but also injustice and cruelty, hate and sabotage, mistrust and desire for revenge… We are tired Lord—yes, hungry and thirsty, too. We snap at our fellow humans, we fight, we feel like what we have to give is not enough, we give up. We’re tired- Tired of this pandemic Tired of the disastrous weather Tired of how we treat each other Tired of feeling that the good we do, the good we desire is never enough Tired of feeling like we are not enough We are tired. And hungry. Hungry for that promise you give—eternal life. Thirsty for the refreshing water that really revives. We need you. I get Elijah today. He’s been giving everything: serving you, proclaiming you, speaking out, performing miracles, even fighting; and for it…getting threatened, run off, forced into hiding. He’s exhausted. And mad. And defeated. We’ve been there. We are there. Alone on the mountain, unable to even know what to do next. We need you. Where are you? But you are there, aren’t you? Your coming to earth proved that you want to be here with us. You came, once, to help us out of this place we’re stuck in—tired, hungry, thirsty. You gave us the bread of life. You ARE the bread of life. That’s why you died on the cross…to give yourself for us—bread broken for the world. Then you were raised from the dead! You came back! To be with us? To keep giving yourself away? You are here aren’t you? Do we see you like Elijah’s story? In the form of an angel who reminds us to eat? Was that you every time in our lives when someone, our friends, your angels, told us to keep going?—"rest, eat, you still matter.” Every time that we wanted to give up, you came—or sent an angel—and reminded us to take care of ourselves, didn’t you? And when I’m strong, having been fed the bread of life, there’s someone out there who needs me, too. You come to the others sometimes through me! Is that what it means to be “the body of Christ?” That you somehow miraculously and mysteriously are with the world through all of us? When you feed us at your table, and we hear the words that the bread and wine is your body given for us, your blood shed for us, you somehow really become part of us, don’t you? We are what we eat, and we are fed by you. Thank you Jesus. I’m still hungry. I still thirst. But now I know to look for you. I know that I can rest. You will send an angel for me. When I’m rested, I know you’ll send me as an angel for another. After some rest, after a meal, when I’ve been filled by you…I know things will look better, because you’re there, too. I know the nourishment you give will last. Jesus, I’m still hungry, tired, thirsty…but I know you’re here. And I’ll rest in you. Grace, peace, and joy everlasting to you today in Jesus name.
When you hear the phrase “eternal life,” what do you think of? No, really, think about the picture(s) that come to mind. When we come here together, and we share in the Lord’s supper, we receive, like Jesus’ words in John’s gospel say, the bread that “Son of Man [gives].” “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.” This is the second week out of five, that our gospel readings talk about Jesus and Bread. Last week we read about Jesus feeding 5000 people with a small offering from some boy’s lunch box—with leftovers! God provides more than enough for us in this world. And God looks at you, and the things you offer, and sees that you are more than just enough. In God’s eyes you are whole, complete, valuable, and more than enough. And Jesus is at work in you and me, bringing that message and reality here. So this is week two of Jesus, the Bread of life. And it’s likely we’ll be singing a lot of bread hymns in these weeks. Which ones are your favorite? Today, on the theme of bread, the focus is the phrase “eternal life.” What does eternal life mean for us today? (Okay, this one you don’t have to answer yet….) But… To start, let’s go the children’s sermon portion of the sermon—you know what I’m talking about…when I ask a question and then get a whole lot of really creative answers. You can all answer, there are no wrong answers, I want the creativity: How long is forever? Go on, answer it with many creative answers. Forever, or eternity, is just as much a quality as it is a quantity. What do I mean? For example, kids especially answer this, how long is ten minutes of playing at the park? Very, very short. But how long is ten minutes when you’re waiting for ice cream? Both are ten minutes, but only one is forever. This is forever as a quality of time. Eternal life, now, is about living a fullness of life—a life of an eternal, or forever quality. See, the eternal life we know about most is the living forever in heaven after you die kind of eternal—the quantity of time. And that’s important. That’s a vision that gives us assurance, and hope, and many times keeps us motivated, gives us what we need to keep on going here and now. Jesus’ death and resurrection defeated the death and took away it’s finality, and therefore it’s sting. We have the promise of a never-ending future in Christ Jesus. The other side of the phrase “eternal life” is that it signifies an abundance of life, a quality of eternity, right now today. It’s life that is full of meaning and purpose, and hope, and aliveness—as full of those things as that 10-minute wait for ice cream is of impatience and anticipation. That’s life in Jesus: eternally-full, forever-full of meaning and purpose and hope and aliveness. At Jesus’ table, the table we gather around each week, we are fed by the Bread of Life, which doesn’t just satisfy us for a day, but transforms us—it creates in us an eternal life in us, or maybe I’ll try another phrase to emphasize the “quality” part of eternal life: how about: it creates in you an “unrelenting aliveness.” What do you think of when you hear “unrelenting aliveness?” The bread of life we receive creates an unrelenting aliveness in us—It’s a life that is empowered, a life that joins itself to Christ and his mission, helping to live as if already in the kingdom of God, to live a life of bringing the kingdom into the world. Brining that kingdom to those around us, and inviting them to join us in spreading it. The Greek words under the phrase “eternal life” in the Bible are something like “life of the ages.” Eternal life, “life of the ages,” is a kind of life that doesn’t just fade away like manna in the wilderness—the people in our gospel story use this image to think about Jesus’ feeding the multitudes with bread. He promises that the Son of Man will give them bread that endures—does this means he’s going to keep literally feeding them daily bread—like some kind of divine vending machine? Well, Jesus is with us each day, and God is our source of daily bread, but no. No, Jesus says that the manna, though miraculous, also pointed to something bigger. He, himself is the true bread from heaven. And what he gives is life for the world. This kind of life can’t fade—this kind of life, even death cannot destroy. It’s unending and unrelenting aliveness in God’s kingdom that Jesus gives in himself. Eternal life, “life of the ages,” is a kind of life that doesn’t just fade away like manna in the wilderness—it’s a life with meaning and purpose, a life of belonging, a life of connection, and a life with hope. It’s a “life worth living” kind of life: So as we come to the table today, let us hear, and taste, and experience that good news: Through this bread, in this meal, in Christ: You are given meaning And purpose And belonging And connection And hope. You are given Jesus. And in him you have a never-ending life of unrelenting aliveness. |
AuthorRev. Chris Sesvold is currently the pastor at Halfway Creek Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Holmen, WI. Archives
October 2021
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