First Lutheran Church

September 18, 2022

The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 16:1-131 Then Jesus said to the disciples, "There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. 2 So he summoned him and said to him, "What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.' 3 Then the manager said to himself, "What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. 4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.' 5 So, summoning his master's debtors one by one, he asked the first, "How much do you owe my master?' 6 He answered, "A hundred jugs of olive oil.' He said to him, "Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.' 7 Then he asked another, "And how much do you owe?' He replied, "A hundred containers of wheat.' He said to him, "Take your bill and make it eighty.' 8 And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. 9 And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes. 10 "Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. 11 If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? 12 And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? 13 No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth."

Sermon

The Dishonest Manager and the Kingdom of God

Pastor Greg Ronning

This week’s appointed Gospel certainly must be one of the most confusing parables told by Jesus. A story about “dishonest management,” “dishonest wealth,” and “shrewdness.”  A story in which what we would normally call bad behavior, is commended as faithful.  A story regarding a subject we don’t really like to talk about.  “The love of it is the root of all evil, but on the other hand without it you can’t do much good .”It’s a tricky and dangerous thing.  Yep, today we’re going to talk about money!

Jesus begins today’s parable, “There was a rich man …”  And right away we know that listening to this story, wrestling with the moral of this story, is not going to be a comfortable experience. Even though we are not among the “One Percenters,” when it comes down to it, from a world view perspective, we know we are among the rich .We have things and we manage things, we live as “the haves” and not the “have nots. ”This is a parable in which we should be able to find ourselves.  But even so, it’s not a simple story with a clear message.  Parables always seem to have a “riddle” quality to them but this one is unique, it’s really quite baffling.

Let’s review today’s story … This manager finds out that his boss, the rich man, is not happy with his work, because he is “squandering” away the rich man’s money.  He seems to have been careless, inefficient, foolish, and wasteful with what he was entrusted. In short, he was not a good manager.  So, fearing he was about to lose his job, he calls in some of the people who owe his boss money, and he cancels portions of their debt.  He does this hoping to win the favor of these people, so that when he loses his job, he will have some friends, that he hopes in turn might do him a favor.

The Rich Man finds out what the dishonest manager has done, and unexpectedly commends him for being “shrewd.”  That’s not what usually happens when you essentially “steal” things at work.  And then Jesus, even more unexpectedly, concludes the story by also commending the “shrewdness” of the manager, adding this curious advice, “And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes. ”Jesus then concludes the parable, somewhat ironically, “You cannot serve God and wealth."

So, what are we supposed to do with this parable?  What is Jesus “lifting up” as an example of good faith practices, and responsible stewardship?  What is “dishonest wealth?”  What kind of relationship are we supposed to have with “dishonest wealth?” “Do the ends justify the means? ”Are we being called to be “shrewd mangers” with “dishonest wealth? ”I can’t help but think of the legend of Robin Hood and his Merry Men, - stealing from the rich and giving to the poor!  Why is Jesus telling us this story?

So, a few thoughts for you to prayerfully consider ….

First of all, Jesus is calling us to be “shrewd” with our faith life.  To be “shrewd” is to be wise, clever, strategic, and even cunning.  And it strikes me that we rarely use these kinds of words to describe a really faithful person.  Those words just don’t sound or feel right.  They belong somewhere else.  When it comes to faith we prefer words like innocent, honest, gentle, and kind.  We prefer peaceful words over aggressive words.  But today Jesus reminds us that our faith also needs to be strong, bold, and courageous.  In the Gospel of Matthew Jesus tells his disciples, “I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” 

All too often the faith of the church chooses the more passive way.  All too often we as Christians choose the more passive way? Today Jesus invites us to be more passionate and aggressive, even forceful and antagonistic, - to live out our faith in the same way that the world pursues its love of money.  And if we’re to be brutally honest, maybe even the same way we love and pursue our money?  Jesus challenges us to make our faith our ultimate concern; and to pursue it accordingly, to summon up all the passionate energy we can, to scheme and strategize, around the things of faith, the values of the Kingdom, the righteousness, the justice of God. When it comes to faith, we need to find a good balance between, “wise as serpents and innocent as doves.”  We need to practice “shrewdness and cunning” alongside our “gentleness and kindness.”

The second thing that came to my mind as I pondered this week’s gospel was my own relationship with money, to dive head first into the last line of today’s Gospel, “You cannot serve God and wealth."  My first sermon thought was to stand up in front of you all and confess that, “I love money!” I love having it in the bank, I love having it in my pocket, and I love the many things it buys me.  Yes, and I confess that I not only love the food and the shelter it affords me, the necessities of life, but I also love the entertainment, the travels, and the toys that it buys me.  Embarrassing but true, I love my money.

But after some deeper reflection I came to the conclusion that I don’t really love money, - I’m actually afraid of money!  I am afraid that I won’t have enough money to pay my bills, take care of my family, do something fun, as well as have enough money to share resources with those in need.  No, I don’t love money, I am a slave to money, I am a slave in a world enslaved by money.  Unfortunately over the years I have come to believe the great lie about money.  The lie that tells us that money saves us, that money protects us, that money defines us, that money is the secret to a good, happy, and successful life. 

I suppose every time Jesus talks about money or wealth, and he does it a lot, he is warning us of the danger of believing those lies. “No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth."  Our relationship with money is complicated and dangerous.  And when it gets turned upside down, when money becomes the most important thing, our ultimate concern; it will destroy our faith, our relationships, and even our life.  In today’s Gospel Jesus invites us to be set free from “the love of money,” and to embrace our resources as something to be shared graciously, joyfully, and meaningfully .Jesus invites us to have a “right” relationship with our resources, one that blesses everyone.  We are reminded that money is not the root of all evil, but that the love of money is the root of all evil.

And that leads me to my last thought, “Whose money, is it? ”We often refer to the money in our pockets, the money we have deposited in the bank, the things we have purchased, and the resources we have accumulated, as mine!  As I said earlier, “I love MY money!”

Yet that’s not really true.  That does not reflect what we have been taught, what we confess we believe, our good theology.  The Psalmist declares and reminds us, “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it.” Everything in heaven and earth belongs to God. And all that we have comes from God, not as personal possession to be hoarded but as resources to be shared for the common good of all creation.  We are not called to be owners but stewards of God’s gifts.  So it is that the proper relationship with money and resources is not a “private love affair,”(I love MY money)but seeing and understanding our wealth and resources as tools to implement the work of the kingdom.  We have all been given an abundance to do the work of God, to help realize God’s dream for all of creation, a dream of Shalom, that all-encompassing peace that provides meaning and purpose, health and love, prosperity and joy, for everyone, all of creation.

Theologian Lois Malcom suggests that one of the reasons that Jesus “lifts up” the dishonest manager in today’s parable, is that he goes from squandering the rich man’s wealth to redistributing the rich man’s wealth.  Although his motives may not be exactly pure, he is now suddenly participating in the work of the kingdom. He has become part of the vision of God’s reign in Christ, a vision described in the beginning of Luke’s Gospel in the words of the Magnificat, “God has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”  Today’s Gospel reminds us that our talents, our opportunities, our resources and whatever kind of wealth comes our way,- ultimately belongs to God and is to be used “shrewdly” for the purposes of God’s reign among us and not simply for our own interests.

I can imagine that the good news of the gospel might be hard to hear this morning.At one level it sounds a lot like “the law,” it even sounds a little bit like “politics,” and maybe it sounds like the church is after your money again.  And in some ways, all those things may be in there in one way or another; but there is also a word of grace, a word of life, a word that invites us, call us into an abundant meaningful life.  I don’t know about you, but I find comfort and hope that I am not defined by my money, I find comfort and hope that there is more to life than money, I find comfort and hope that I don’t have to play the money game to be successful.

Ultimately this morning, I hear a word of love, a word of grace, and a word of freedom And I am excited that we are all invited into a life that is deeper and richer than money, into a life of love and peace, a life of sharing, a life of making a difference, into God’s kingdom that is coming even now, and will come again in the fullness of time.

Let us be “shrewd” for the purposes of heaven, set free from “the love of money” by the love of God in Christ Jesus, faithful redistributors of “dishonest wealth,” and good stewards of all our good gifts, for the sake of the kingdom. Amen.

First Lutheran Church

September 4, 2022 – The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 14:25-27,33. Now large crowds were traveling with [Jesus;] and he turned and said to them, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. …  So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”

Philemon 8-16.  For this reason, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty, yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love—and I, Paul, do this as an old man, and now also as a prisoner of Christ Jesus. I am appealing to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become during my imprisonment. Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful both to you and to me. I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you. I wanted to keep him with me, so that he might be of service to me in your place during my imprisonment for the gospel; but I preferred to do nothing without your consent, in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced. Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back forever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.”

“The Summons”

Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?

Will you go where you don't know and never be the same?

Will you let my love be shown, will you let my name be known,

Will you let my life be grown in you and you in me?

Sermon

Pastor Greg Ronning

Today’s “Hymn of the Day” invites us all, “Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?”  It’s a nice hymn, but it’s also kind of a tricky hymn.  It’s innocent tune, its “sing songy” quality, its pitch and its rhythm, its happy bouncy feeling; disguises the serious life altering implications contained in its invitation.  We refer to the song as “Will You Come and Follow Me,” but the official title is listed as “The Summons.” I think the official title better suits the true nature of the song.  “Will you come and follow me,” is not an invitation to an afternoon walk in the park, but a serious “summons” to engage in the radical way of Jesus, a way that has consequences.

A closer look at the song, at the lyrics, uncovers the true cost of following Jesus.  To follow Jesus and become his disciple is to leave your whole self behind, to care for the cruel as well as the kind, to be changed forever.  It is to risk the hostile stare and negative attention that comes with living out the values of the kingdom in the midst of a fallen world.  To follow Jesus is to place yourself amongst the so called “least of these,” the prisoners, the lepers, all those who have been marginalized and dismissed.  To follow Jesus is to love, and set free that part of you that is afraid, the “you” that is the longing of your very soul, the “you” that desperately wants to do the right thing in a world that rarely values doing the right thing.  To follow Jesus is to engage the way, the truth, and the life, that Jesus taught and lived.  To follow Jesus is to be willing to be radically changed forever, - to never be the same. To follow Jesus costs everything.

In today’s appointed gospel Jesus is very clear about the cost of being a disciple, the cost of following him and his ways, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. …  So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”

“Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?”

In today’s appointed epistle, Paul’s letter to Philemon, we have another example of what it means to follow Jesus.  It’s a little different than the other letters found in the New Testament attributed to St. Paul.  In this letter Paul is primarily addressing one person. In this very personal letter, Paul invites his friend Philemon to enter more deeply into his faith, to give up his possessions, to engage in the work of reconciliation, to come and follow in the way of Jesus.

In order to truly understand Paul’s letter to Philemon we need to take a moment and unpack the context of the letter.  Here’s what we think we know.  … Philemon was a leader in the church at Colossae and had been instructed in the faith by Paul.  Paul introduced him to Jesus.  Philemon appears to be a wealthy Roman citizen, who like many other wealthy citizens in that time and place, had a slave.  The slave’s name was Onesimus.  Somehow this slave, Onesimus, ends up in Rome and is helping Paul who is in prison.  Some suggest that Onesimus is a runaway slave that encounters Paul by chance, some suggest he ran away to appeal to Paul to appeal on his behalf for his freedom, and others suggest that he was sent to Rome to serve Paul who was in prison.  Whatever the case, during their time together, Onesimus becomes a believer in Christ, and shares in the ministry of the Gospel with Paul.

Eventually, Paul comes to the conclusion that it is time for Onesimus to return to Philemon.  And this is the occasion for the letter.  And this letter indicates that a reconciliation needs to happen as part of this reunion.  We don’t know what in particular needs to be “reconciled?”  Perhaps Onesimus was a runaway slave, perhaps the condition of his slavery was because of a debt that he owed? Perhaps, in “that context” Onesimus had “wronged” Philemon.  And / Or perhaps, just maybe, and better yet, Paul who had penned that “in Christ there is no longer slave or free,” expected that truth to be more than a platitude but rather a value that was to be lived out, a summons for slaves and masters to be reconciled in Christ. Whatever the case, the relationship between Philemon and Onesimus, master and slave, needs reconciliation

So it is that Paul passionately appeals to Philemon, on behalf of Onesimus, for his freedom.  Paul reminds us that in Christ people are not to be property but family.  Onesimus “beloved-ness” is boldly witnessed by Paul who describes him as “his child,” as a part of his very heart.  Paul’s love for Onesimus is very clear, and Paul’s understanding of Onesimus as a “beloved child of God” is very clear!  Paul declares that he could command Philemon to set Onesimus free, that the authority of the Gospel is very clear on this matter, but instead he wishes to appeal to him - in with and through - love.  Paul knows that the love of God in Christ Jesus is the only thing that can make true reconciliation possible, such love is the very power of reconciliation, the only thing that can truly set us free, the only thing that can save us.  Paul does not trust in the authority and power of the law, but rather in the grace and love of Christ.

So, Paul sends Onesimus back, asking him to trust in the power of love.  Hoping that love will prevail, that love will pave the way to reconciliation and freedom. Hoping that the love of Christ will replace rights, vengeance, and retaliation.  And Onesimus seems to have trusted Paul, to trust in love, and makes the long journey back to Philemon not knowing if it will lead him back into slavery or into freedom.

And Paul invites Philemon to trust in love.  He invites him to enter more deeply into his faith, to engage in the work of reconciliation, to give up his possession, to count the cost and see in it not only the freedom of Onesimus, but also the freedom of his salvation.  Philemon is challenged to forgive what society has pronounced as a legitimate debt, he is challenged to give up some of his economic gain, he is asked to relinquish some of his privilege, he is asked to give up some of the power that society has given him, - he is invited to make a change and never be the same.  He is asked to let go of “the way things are,” to adjust the injustice of slavery. He is asked to no longer see Onesiums a slave, but as an equal.He is asked to invite him fully into his life as a sibling in Christ. 

Paul powerfully concludes the proposition, by taking on the condition of Onesimus, “So, if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has wronged you in any way, or owes you anything, charge that to my account. I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand: I will repay it. I say nothing about your owing me even your own self. Yes, brother, let me have this benefit from you in the Lord!”

Martin Luther, in his commentary on Philemon, describes how Paul models, lives out, the love of Christ in his appeal for Onesimus …“This epistle gives us a masterful and tender illustration of Christian love. For here we see how St. Paul takes the part of poor Onesimus and, to the best of his ability, advocates his cause with his master. He acts exactly as if he were himself Onesimus, who had done wrong. Yet he does this not with force or compulsion, as lay within his rights; but he empties himself of his rights in order to compel Philemon also to waive his rights.”

I like Luther’s use of the word “rights.”  It seems we are often so concerned about our individual rights that we forget about our responsibilities, we forget that we are called to live life for the common good.  As Luther wrote regarding the freedom of a Christian, “A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”

Paul ends his letter to Philemon, his brother in Christ, with a confident appeal, “I am writing to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say.” 

So, what happened?  What happened on that day when Onesimus returned to Philemon?  The fact that this letter written in the first century survives to this day and has been read aloud in worship for almost two thousand years, strongly suggests that Philemon chose not to live as an entitled citizen of Rome but rather as a humble citizen of the Kingdom of God. It is widely believed that Philemon set Onesimus free, reconciled the relationship, and that there was no longer “slave or free” in Christ, in the church at Colossae. 

And we can only imagine the chain of events that must have set into motion.  As Onesimus was welcomed back into the community of faith, no longer as a slave but as a beloved family member, certainly others may have been reconciled and liberated!  And what happened to Onesimus?  Interestingly, a page from an early church history book written some 60 years after Paul’s letter to Philemon mentions an “Onesimus” who served as the Bishop of Ephesus.  Could that be the same person? Paul’s letter to Philemon certainly changed the way things were in the church at Colossae, certainly things would “never be the same.”

And what will happen today, what is happening even now, as Paul’s letter to Philemon is read aloud in our congregation?  Will it provide the impetus to lead us more deeply into our faith, into the work of reconciliation, to give up our possessions, to count the cost and see in it the freedom of our salvation, “to come and follow me?”

Perhaps some of you are being called to reconcile with someone in particular?  To find a way to forgive and be forgiven?  Relationships are hard to do, but at the same time too precious to abandon. How might we become reconciled with each other?  Only in the grace and love of Christ is it possible.  Let us trust in love and begin the process!

Perhaps we are being called to participate in a wider process of reconciliation?  Our society is struggling in so many ways, reconciliation is needed in so many areas.  In particular I commend to you the reconciliation work begun by our church, The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, with regards to racism.  Unfortunately, Paul’s words written to Philemon regarding the freeing of one slave did not lead to the end of institutional slavery.  The effects of slavery, the so-called original sin of our country, still ravages our life together.  We must continue to do the hard work of reconciliation, work that can only be done - in with and through - the grace of God’s love.  Be on the lookout for ways to participate as our church begins this important work.

What will happen today, what is happening even now, as Paul’s letter to Philemon is read aloud in our congregation?  “Will you come and follow me?”

May we find the courage to engage the words of today’s epistle through the person of Philemon.  To be willing, as he was, to graciously receive the word; and to faithfully begin to reflect on our privilege, our wealth and our possessions, our power and our status, seeking a way to employ these things, even surrender these things, for the sake of the kingdom.  May we find a way to practice kindness, do justice and walk humbly in the way of Jesus. May we as Philemon, answer the summons, “Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?”

And may we find the great and holy comfort that we share with Onesimus.  Let us be reminded that no matter how the world might try to define us, we are finally and ultimately, only, - the beloved children of God. And may this love that we have experienced in Jesus, inspire us to love others as we have been loved.  And trusting in that love, may we discover all the faith that we need to answer the summons, “Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?”

Together, let us follow.

Amen.

Sermon on Luke 14:1,7-14

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

You won’t see Jesus writing any articles for Better Homes and Gardens or the Magnolia Journal. He is far from the ideal houseguest.

In today’s story, he’s invited to a dinner party at the home of one of the leaders of the Pharisees. This was an important person, and it was an honor to be invited to share the sabbath meal.

It’s hard to tell whether people are excited that he’s there or if he’s just a curiosity, but all eyes are on him.

The part we didn’t read today is that there was a person there with edema, or a swelling, probably in one of his limbs.

Everyone watches Jesus, waiting to see what he’ll do. Will he heal this person on the sabbath, or will he send him away?

Jesus asks their unspoken question: “Is it lawful to cure people on the Sabbath or not?”

No one is brave enough to give an answer, and Jesus heals the man and sends him on his way.

Then, Jesus answers the question with another question, which is a very Jesus-y thing to do: “If one of you has a child or an ox that has fallen into a well, will you not immediately pull it out on a Sabbath day?”

And again, no one answers.

Jesus doesn’t exactly bring sparkling conversation to this dinner party.

Then, after he’s been the subject of so many stares, Jesus notices the other guests in return.

He notices that they’re very concerned with where they sit, which indicates their importance and social standing.

And instead of minding his own business like a polite dinner guest, Jesus calls them out on it.

Then, he even starts giving advice to his host! Jesus basically tells him that this isn’t the sort of gathering he should be having.

And right after what we read today, one of the other guests pipes up, perhaps trying to save the host from embarrassment, saying, “Blessed is anyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!”

Instead of being shamed into an awkward change of subject, Jesus tells a parable about someone who threw a lavish banquet, but the rich and powerful guests all made excuses not to come, so instead, people who are impoverished, disabled, and unhoused are ushered into the feast.

Jesus just isn’t getting the message that this isn’t how guests are supposed to behave.

But that’s because Jesus is more concerned with the upside-down Reign of God than with being polite.

Instead of being worried about:

1.    Status

2.    Power

3.    Recognition

4.    Fitting in

5.    Or being polite,

Jesus wants the guests and the host to get a clearer picture of what the Reign of God will look like. It will not look like that sabbath dinner, with homogeneous guests vying for the best seats.

Instead, it will look like an upside-down version of the social hierarchy. The most powerful will be at the humblest seats, if they choose to attend at all, and the least, the last, and the lost will be seated in places of honor. Those who are ignored by society will be seen and respected.

How easy is it to look around you and make assumptions about who “belongs” and who doesn’t?

Categorizing is in our nature—our ancestors needed to figure out quickly what was a threat and what wasn’t: fruit tree-good, lion-bad.

But our brains still think like this, even though most of us aren’t in danger of getting eaten on a daily basis. Our brains decide in seconds whether another person is a threat or a friend, but our brains haven’t caught up to the fact that different doesn’t equal bad or dangerous.

This, plus centuries of prejudice and stereotyping, leads us to make unfair judgments about our neighbors before getting to know anything about them.

And so, we give side-eyes to folks around us, just like the guests at the home of that leader of the Pharisees. And we want to fit in and get the best seat we can, just like they did. It’s so easy to be ruled by our unexamined instincts instead of seeing our neighbor as God does.

I’ve been telling the book study group for the past month or so that it’s really hard for me not to use Father Gregory Boyle’s work in every one of my sermons. So, please indulge me for using a story from the latest book we read: Barking to the Choir.

You might remember that Father Boyle is the founder of Homeboy Industries in LA, the largest gang intervention program in the world. He shares this story:

“A homie, speaking to a city council meeting, addresses them as if they were stand-ins for all of society. ‘You gave up on me even before you knew me,’ he says. So we are encouraged to stand with the tax collector and the prostitute, the widow, orphan, and stranger, precisely because they are the judged, the scapegoated, the less-than, whose chances are taken away well before they are given. The principal cause of suffering for the leper is not an annoying, smelly, itchy skin disease but rather having to live outside the camp. So the call is to stand with them, so that the margins get erased and they are welcomed back inside. Jesus didn’t think twice: he touches the lepers before he gets around to healing them.”[1]

It's easy sometimes to give up on people before getting to know them. Perhaps the other dinner guests from our reading today had given up on the person with edema from the moment they saw him: he was an inconvenience, perhaps his very existence made them feel embarrassed especially on a Sabbath day. They seem to have used him as a prop to see what Jesus would do. They don’t seem to value his humanity.

But Jesus indicates that instead of being sent away, the man will be seated at the head of the table in the Reign of God. As Father Boyle put it, Jesus “touches the lepers before he gets around to healing them.” He builds connection before worrying about what he can do for people. He restores people’s humanity simply by recognizing them as people. That is the greatest healing Jesus provides. Jesus might be a terrible dinner guest etiquette-wise, but that’s because he’s preparing for a different kind of party: where the least are the greatest.

Even the healthcare workers among us can’t heal people in an instant the way Jesus did. But, any one of us can restore people’s humanity by noticing them, forming a connection, recognizing them as the image of God.

So, whenever you see anyone, especially folks who are ignored or hurting, take a moment. Smile, ask them how they are. If you can do more, great. If not, you have already shown that you have not given up on them. And that human connection is a glimpse of the upside-down Reign of God.

[1] Barking to the Choir p. 166