First Lutheran Church

September 5, 2021

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost B

James 2:14–17

14What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you?  15If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food,  16and one of you says to them, "Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill," and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?  17So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.

Mark 7:24–30

24From there Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, 25but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.  26Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter.  27He said to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs."  28But she answered him, "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."  29Then he said to her, "For saying that, you may go — the demon has left your daughter."  30So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

“Jesus and the Syrophoenician Woman”

Last Sunday the epistle from James proclaimed, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”  James urged us to listen to those who had no voice, those who were neglected, those on the margins of life, and to respond not with empty and useless words but instead with loving kindness.  In this week’s lesson from James he adds to it ,“the golden rule,” "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." And then plain and simple, and right to the point, “If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,’ and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?”

In this week’s Gospel Jesus comes across a Gentile woman of Syrophoenician origin.  As a woman two thousand years ago, she was marginalized because women at that time were seen as an expendable commodity.  Because she speaks up for herself, we can assume she probably had no husband, no one to represent her in public, and thus no access to the system, and thus she most likely lived in a state of poverty.  And she was a foreigner, connected to the Canaanites, an ancient enemy of the Israelites, defined by the religious authorities as “unclean.” And her problem has to do with her daughter who is possessed by a demon, which means the whole cycle of violence just begins again.  That’s just the way it was in those days.  Nobody listens to a Syrophoenician woman who wants to talk about her daughter.

And much to our dismay - this seems to include Jesus.  He responds to her begging for help, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." Jesus calls this woman a “derogatory” dog. He proclaims that she is less than human, unclean, and unworthy.  In truth, nobody in this moment cares about this woman, - not even Jesus! 

Humans have always been very good at building walls between themselves and others.  It comes naturally to people who live out of fear, who live in the context of “us” verses “them.”  Building barriers that separate and make distinction makes sense in a world in which we are taught to judge and demean others in order to secure our own sense of identity, our own sense of goodness, and even our own salvation.  I know that I am good - because you and your kind are bad!  Today’s Gospel reading is a familiar, all too familiar, human story.  I suppose the shocking thing about this story is not that society seeks to build a wall between this woman and themselves, but that Jesus is there too, at work putting up a wall between himself and the Syrophoenician woman and her daughter.

This picture of Jesus is disturbing, confusing, and even scary.  It certainly does not live up to the words of James.  Yet, ironically, in this Jesus we can also find incredible comfort and hope.  As the word of God challenges us this morning, challenges the fear that lies behind our fence building and the fallen assumptions that stand behind our walls, it is in this Jesus, fully God and all too fully human, we discover that we are not alone in the human condition.  In this very human Jesus, we can be comforted in the knowledge that God really does understand the situation and the deep fears that we face, because God has literally been there!  And there is hope because Jesus overcame the boundaries set by fear and tears down the walls!  In and with this Jesus we too can begin to find the faith and courage to do the same, brick by brick until the walls are gone.

The unlikely heroine in today’s gospel is the Syrophoenician woman.  Even though she is rebuked by Jesus, she does not give up, she doesn’t walk away.  Instead, she essentially challenges him to a debate.  She replies to Jesus hard words for her, "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."  And suddenly she becomes the only person in any of the four gospels to get the best of Jesus in a debate.  With great faith and hope she appeals to the vision of a new kingdom, a kingdom of grace and mercy, a kingdom of unconditional love, a kingdom in which everyone is included.  And this seems to awaken the Christ, as Jesus exclaims, "For saying that, you may go — the demon has left your daughter." And as the walls suddenly and unexpectedly come tumbling down, the power of God, the power of the kingdom of God, is manifest and the story ends, “So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.”

This morning it is my hope and prayer that this story about a woman on the margins of life and her vision of the kingdom of God might awaken us, the Body of Christ present here and now.  Awaken us to reach out in love to those around us in need, awaken us to tear down the walls that separate one from another and especially even the other, awaken us to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly. 

May it be so, Amen!

First Lutheran Church

August 29, 2021 – The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost B

James 1:17-27

17Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. 18In fulfillment of his own purpose he gave us birth by the word of truth, so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures. 19You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger;  20for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. 21Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. 22But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. 23For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; 24for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. 25But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing. 26If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. 27Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

“True Religion”

Pastor Greg Ronning

Over the next few weeks, the appointed epistle lessons from the lectionary feature readings from the book of James.  The history of the book of James, and its inclusion in the New Testament, was somewhat controversial.  There was not complete agreement that it belonged.  Chiefly, there was scholarly debate regarding its apostolic authorship.

Martin Luther was not really a big fan of the book of James.  Luther famously wrote, “Therefore St. James’ epistle is really an epistle of straw, compared to these others, for it has nothing of the nature of the gospel about it.”  Luther preferred the writings of Paul, the theology of justification by grace through faith.  In Luther’s mind James contained nothing of the good news of salvation.  He writes, “… it is flatly against St. Paul and all the rest of Scripture in ascribing justification to works…”  However, Luther did seem to appreciate the book of James.  He begins his “Preface on James” by saying, “Though this epistle of St. James was rejected by the ancients, I praise it and consider it a good book, because it sets up no doctrines of men but vigorously promulgates the law of God. However, to state my own opinion about it, though without prejudice to anyone, I do not regard it as the writing of an apostle…”

So, what does the book of James have to offer us today?  Why are we reading it aloud in the assembly? It barely made it into the bible, and Luther said it was good, but was essentially “straw” when it comes to the good news of the Gospel.  What’s the point, what’s the takeaway?  

Well, I for one believe it has a message that we need to hear today, a message to help us understand the true purpose of religion, a message that might help us discern our religious behaviors, a message for a people seemingly hopelessly divided over religious issues.  In today’s lesson James describes genuine religion, “If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless.  Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”  

Religion, humanities attempt to understand and respect the sacred, observe and serve the divine, practice and proclaim faith; has been, and still is, responsible for both our best and worst individual and collective moments.  

In the practicing of religion, humanity has created the most amazing works of art, music that comforts and inspires, buildings that invite us into heavenly spaces, and literature that transforms the heart, the mind, and the soul.  In the name of religion, we have fed the hungry, housed the homeless, clothed the naked, healed the sick, and loved the other.  In the name of religion, we have made the world a better place.

Yet in the practicing of religion, we have also demonized each other, we have gone to war with each other, we have tortured, colonized, and enslaved each other.  We have killed each other.  And we have destroyed art, literature, music, and architecture.  In the name of religion, we have made the world a worse place.

Religion has the capacity to bring us together and religion has the capacity to tear us apart.  Theologian Debi Thomas writes, “Religion has always had the power to elevate or ruin us.  To make us compassionate and creative, or stingy and small-minded.  To grant us peace, or stir us to war.”

This summer a number of us studied Richard Rohr’s book, “Falling Upward.”  In the book Rohr describes the work of true religion.  “It is religion’s job to teach us and guide us on this discovery of our True Self, but it usually makes the mistake of turning this into a worthiness contest of some sort, a private performance, or some kind of religious achievement on our part, through our belonging to the right group, practicing the right rituals, or believing the right things.”  

In the end, for many, our religious experiences, are tragically marked by fear, judgment, and shame.  They lead us into smaller groups pitted against other smaller groups, hard defined notions of who’s right and who’s wrong, strict boundaries that determine who belongs and who doesn’t belong, the civil religion of political division, lines drawn in the sand over issues that don’t really matter, lines drawn in the sand over issues that do matter but keep us from finding common ground; unfortunately too often religion can lead us farther away from the Kingdom, instead of deeper into the expanding grace-filled reign of God’s love.  As Debi Thomas says, religion has made us “stingy and small-minded.”

Too often religion in our world has become nothing more than words, and all too often nothing more than a war of words.  We shout “our words” believing that the loudest word will win.   We use “our words” like weapons to demonize others.  We spin “our words” to create scapegoats in order that we might be justified.  

And so it is, in the end, James is right, most of these words, and the religion they produce, are worthless. “If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless.”  James wants us to do more listening and less talking.  James wants us to listen with our hearts and respond not with more words but rather with acts of love, with a religion that is pure and undefiled by those empty words.  “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”  He asks us to listen to the orphans and widows that are all around us, the ones who are suffering, the ones who are neglected, the ones who don’t belong, the ones who live on the margins of life, and even, maybe especially, the ones who are often the victims of “our words.”  He asks us to listen to their words and reach out in love.  James reminds us that we are called to serve, to practice the grace we have received, by sharing that grace with others.  

And Luther is right too, we are not “saved” by these works, but we are “blessed” in the doing of these works.  Salvation is not “earned” in serving others, but salvation is “experienced” in the serving of others.  James writes in today’s lesson, “Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, ...”  When we become doers of the word and not just hearers of the word, (or idle talkers of the word) we find ourselves in the presence of God, we become participants in the divine drama, we are blessed by the transforming – healing - inspired power of love.  It truly is “more blessed to give than to receive.”

The Book of James will not save us, it does not contain a theology that exposes us to the amazing grace of God.  But James does help us expose and discern our religious behaviors.  It does teach us how to “live out” and “live into” the faith that we have found in grace, it does lead us deeper into the full experience of our salvation.  

Debi Thomas writes about discerning our religiosity, “Notice what fruit your adherence to tradition bears. (your adherence to your religion) Does your version of holiness lead to hospitality?  To inclusion?  To freedom?  Does it cause your heart to open wide with compassion?  Does it lead other people to feel loved and welcomed at God’s table?  Does it make you brave, creative, and joyful?  Does it prepare your mind and body for a God who is always doing something fresh and new?  Does it facilitate another step forward in your spiritual evolution?  Or does it make you small, stingy, and bored?  Fearful, suspicious, withholding, and judgmental?”

Today we are invited to consider our practice of religion, our religious experience, and ask these critical questions.  These words today are not offered in judgement but rather as an invitation to enter more deeply into the grace and love Christ, to participate in the gracious and life-giving unfolding of the kingdom, the kingdom that came in Christ, the kingdom that comes today in our presence, and the kingdom that one day will come for all and forever.  Afterall that’s what we really want, that’s why we practice our religion, to know and to experience and to share - the love of God!

We continue with our hymn, “Peace Prayer.”  This hymn is based upon the “The Prayer of St. Francis.”  St. Francis, famously said, perhaps in the tradition of the book of James, “Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary, use words.”  

“If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless.  Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”  

Amen.

Sermon on Luke 4:14-21

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

This story is where Jesus tells us what he’s really about.

It’s right at the beginning of his ministry in the Gospel of Luke. He was baptized, and then he spent many days fasting in the wilderness. Now, he’s back home, he’s been doing some teaching, and he’s in the “synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom.”

He’s doing what he always did, but he has a new energy about him, a new sense of purpose. People have been paying attention to his teaching, and he’s being noticed.

And then, that particular sabbath day, he gets up to read from the scriptures. And he starts reading from Isaiah. The passion in his voice and on his face captivates everyone in the congregation. The whole room holds its collective breath.

Not a sound while Jesus rolls the scroll back up and sits down.

Then, his voice once again fills the room, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

Wow. That’s bold! Even for Jesus, especially this early in his ministry.

At first, the people are impressed.

Then, they start having questions: “Is this not Joseph’s son?” As in, we know this guy—how can he claim to be the Lord’s anointed? Is he really saying he’s the one who will usher in the year of the Lord’s favor? Come on! We saw him in diapers!

Jesus notices that others are willing to listen…but only if he does “the things we have heard you did at Capernaum.” They want him to jump through hoops to prove himself to them.

Ultimately, the people gathered there start getting mad. They’re mad that Jesus is claiming that he’s been anointed by God, chosen to bring in God’s Reign. They’re mad enough to drive Jesus out of town. Mad enough even to drive him to the edge of a cliff, so that they could throw him off of it!

This might not seem like the best start for a budding rabbi.

But ultimately, Jesus knows what he’s about.

In his baptism, Jesus is clear in his call—he is chosen by God.

In the wilderness, he faced the very embodiment of evil and was not defeated.

Now, he knows who he is, whose he is, and what he’s about.

We can almost see this passage from Isaiah as Jesus’ mission statement:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me
        to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
    and recovery of sight to the blind,
        to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

This new sense of energy and purpose Jesus has is not, in fact, new, but rooted in the scriptures and tradition of his faith.

The year of the Lord’s favor is encapsulated in the concept of the Year of Jubilee, laid out in the law given by God to God’s people. It was a time every fifty years [Lev. 25:10] when:

1.     land would be returned to its original family,

2.     enslaved people would be freed,

3.     debts would be forgiven, and

4.     there would be joy, peace, and celebration among God’s people.

There’s not much in the way of evidence that the Year of Jubilee was ever practiced. We, human beings, fall short of the law of God once again. But by God’s grace, Jesus has come to fulfill the Year of Jubilee, the year of the Lord’s favor, the Kingdom of God, the Reign of God.

And it was only after the confirmation of his identity in God in his baptism and the resilience he gained during his time of wilderness that Jesus became so rooted in his mission that he could withstand his neighbors trying to throw him off a cliff.

We have been in a wilderness time, too.

Our COVID wilderness time is not over, unfortunately, but we’ve spent enough time in this wilderness to learn from it.

COVID has made us examine our priorities. When our reality shifted under our feet, we had to decide what was most important to us. Whose job is really essential? Who are the people we most need to protect and care for?

Jesus’ time in the wilderness clarified who he was there to serve:

1.     those who are impoverished,

2.     those who are imprisoned,

3.     those who are visually impaired (which when you look at the many healing stories in the Gospels probably included restoring people with many chronic conditions to the support and inclusion of their communities),

4.     and those who are oppressed.

And our wilderness time during COVID has clarified what’s important to us. From talking with Pastor Greg, it sounds like one of the things you all were most concerned about was how the people in your community were going to be fed. Caring Hands is a huge part of this congregation’s mission and passion, and it was important to you that the people who are a part of this community through that ministry would continue to have the food they need.

That is such a powerful testament to the fact that you know what you’re about. You know how the Holy Spirit is moving you to serve your community and make Earth a little more as it is in heaven. Your mission, like Jesus’ mission, is rooted in scriptures like this. You are participating in the tradition of God’s mercy and justice that goes back for millennia.

When we know what we’re about, what God’s calling us to, it’s a lot easier to withstand the pushback we receive along the way, like Jesus did in this reading. Jesus could have been like, “I almost got thrown off a cliff today—maybe I need to pull back. Maybe this isn’t what God is calling me to after all. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe the world isn’t ready for this right now. Maybe I’ll just go back to carpentry for a while.”

But he didn’t. He stayed true to his mission. He stayed true to what God was calling him to, even to death.

And even that didn’t stop him.

Now, we are the Body of Christ. We are God’s hands and feet in the world, carrying on Jesus’ mission to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor—the Year of Jubilee that brings God’s mercy and justice to our hurting world.

You know what you’re about: you feed people—body and soul, you care for people who are so often overlooked, disrespected, and mistreated—but who are, in fact, beloved people made in the image of God.

What you’re about is in line with what Jesus is about, and that’s a fantastic place to be. You are following in the example of our Savior, and no matter what wilderness places you walk through or what resistance you meet from the world, you can hold firm in your identity in baptism and calling from God.

So be bold, be loving, and keep feeding your community, because when you do that, you are following the example of Jesus and sharing the good news of our loving God with the world.