LINKS to other Sermons
A Sermon for The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
"Never Give Up!"
A Sermon for The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost
"But the Boss said ...?"
A Sermon for The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
"Of Mustard Seeds and Beavers"
A Sermon for the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
There was a popular tv show on years ago - Hee Haw.
Each show one segment had the saddest looking bunch of folks
you've ever seen singing this song:
Well, who hasn't sung that tune from time to time,
or been tempted to make it our theme song?
The hero in today's story from Jesus could have rightly sung that song.
She could have given up long ago.
She was a widow.
The word "widow" in Greek is "chera"
and it means "forsaken," "empty."
Whenever the Bible wishes to name the most helpless persons in a society,
orphans and widows top the list.
They had few rights.
There was no Social Security, no welfare or Medicare.
They were often exploited and abused.
A more powerless person could not have been found.
Yet, Jesus makes her the hero of the story
(his heroes are always surprising, aren't they?)
Yes, she's a hero, a model of persistence, patience, of never giving up.
Ever!
There is a great message here in her story.
I need it. Maybe you do too.
DON'T GIVE UP ON YOURSELF.
This woman didn't.
She had ever reason to do so.
Everything was against her.
She had nothing.
What little she had had been taken from her.
She couldn't afford a high priced, powerful lawyer to represent her.
Even the legal system itself was stacked against her.
No power, No status.
A nobody to most everybody.
But not to herself!
She refused to sit down and sing that old Hee Haw tune.
She would not take on the role of victim, of woe is me.
To the contrary, she had a sense of dignity, of worth.
Her voice was tiny, but she raised it anyway.
Her power was small, but she used what she had.
Maybe everyone else had given up on her, if they noticed her at all,
but she had not given up.
Never! Ever!
It really hurts when we get the message from others that we are nobodies,
that we don't matter, that we are losers.
That's a terrible burden to bear.
But we can bear that as long as we do not say to ourselves,
"They're right. You are a loser. Give up."
When we say that and mean that, then we are in a world of trouble.
And that's how many people do see themselves or are made to see themselves.
They've lost so many times,
failed at one thing after another,
been knocked down just once too often and just don't want to get up again.
Norman Vincent Peale once traveled to Hong Kong.
He passed a tattoo shop.
On the shop window were various examples - a flag, dagger, slogans.
One caught his eye: "Born to Lose."
He was curious and went inside to ask about it.
"Do people really ask for that tattoo?" he asked.
"Yes," the man replied.
Someone had just asked for it, in fact.
"Why would anyone want to be branded with that?" Peale asked.
The old man shrugged and said,
"Before tattoo on chest, tattoo already on mind."
We all fail sometimes.
We all lose sometimes.
We can fall flat on our faces
and sometimes because someone else tripped us.
Life is not fair sometimes.
But we do not have to stay down.
We do not have to give up.
God does not give up on us.
Others may. God never does.
And frankly, that's what keeps me going more often than not -
knowing that the great and good Creator of all loves me, values me,
never gives up on me.
Let that be tattooed on your mind and heart, my friends.
DON'T GIVE UP ON OTHERS.
This widow did not give up on her self.
Neither would she give up on that judge, as unfeeling and corrupt as he was.
She was not going to stop pestering him until he did the right thing by her.
She believed he would, if only to get rid of her.
It's easy to give up on ourselves.
Maybe it's easier even to give up on others,
to cast them into the losers slot, the widows,
the nobodies who will never amount to anything.
Or maybe it's someone close to us,
maybe even in our own family,
who has caused us so much grief and pain,
though we have tried and tried with them.
The very great temptation is to wash our hands,
Pilate-like, to rid ourselves, our thoughts of them.
Give up on them.
Maybe I do not know very much about being a Christian,
but one thing I think I really understand:
that nobody's a loser, that nobody's a nobody in the eyes of God.
Every person is made in God's image and is of infinite worth,
even the most lowly, even the outcasts, the hated of any society.
Many of the persons Jesus called to follow him were such persons:
fisherman, tax collectors, sinners.
And these were the very people he spent most of his time ministering to...
lepers, lame, demon-possessed,
those nobodies that society had cast out, given up on,
who had given up on themselves.
But not Jesus!
And even when his followers gave up on him, deserting him, he never gave up on them.
He kept on loving them, believing in them, welcoming them back.
It's not easy, believe me, I know.
People let you down, don't they?
People close to you.
They hurt you. They don't do right by you.
They do things you just don't understand.
But so do you.
So do I.
We don't want anyone giving up on us, do we?
Let's not give up on anyone else, either.
Never stop loving.
Never give up.
Indeed, when others are hardest to love,
when they try our patience the most,
then is precisely when they need it the most.
DON'T GIVE UP ON GOD.
This widow did not give up on herself, on that judge, or on God.
Maybe that's why she didn't give up on herself or that judge.
She had reason to.
She had obviously suffered a great deal of injustice
through the corrupt legal system, but also by losing her husband.
She could have easily laid all of that at God's feet,
blaming and cursing God for her lot in life.
(Some in those days believed
that if a husband died it was because he sinned or his wife sinned,
so this was the punishment.
Imagine living with the grief and with such views from your community?)
But not this woman.
She did not see it this way.
She had faith that God cared for her and knew her plight,
and that some time, some how God would come through for her.
She would not give up on God.
You know, I wonder if Jesus himself was not tempted to give up on God sometimes? Can you imagine being betrayed, arrested, beaten, judged, condemned, crucified?
I would be saying, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me," too?
Yet, even in that cry he calls in faith upon God!
And in the garden when he submitted to drinking that bitter cup,
he entrusted his life into God's hands.
Jesus believed that somehow
even his death could be used by God to accomplish God's purpose.
He would not give up on God, even on a cross.
Now that's faith, my friends.
Maybe some of us are at the point in which we are thinking about giving up on God. Maybe some of us already have.
Maybe our prayers have seemingly gone unanswered for too long now...
Perhaps the tough times just seem to keep getting tougher,
and God doesn't seem to know or care...
Maybe life's threatening to crucify us too...
We are tempted to take the advice of Job's wife, "Curse God and die!"
But don't give up on God!
When life is unfair, keep on trusting.
Though you hear or see no result, keep on praying.
Keep on believing!
God does hear.
God does know.
God will act in a time and way that's best for us.
For God is nothing like that corrupt judge.
Even that rascal could be convinced to do the right thing.
How much more, Jesus is saying, will God do justly by us?
For God wishes to help us.
Such faith is what the Son of man longs to see when he visit us,
when he turns his eyes upon our souls.
The words of Winston Churchill,
delivered, I believe, at a commencement service,
come to mind
( a man who knew the powerful temptation to give up
and give in under the most trying of times):
"Do not give up. Do not ever give up. Never give up!"
And I can hear that widow saying, "Amen! Amen!"
Let the people of God join her - AMEN! AMEN!
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A Sermon for the Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Ruth 1:1-19a
"Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you!
Where you go, I will go;
Where you lodge, I will lodge;
your people shall be my people, and your God my God.
Where you die, I will die--there will I be buried...."
Beautiful, powerful, and familiar words.
It is perhaps the clearest biblical example of committed love between two people.
But even so, it's an unusual kind of love:
One woman says "Get lost" and the other responds, "No way."
In that instance,
the interaction is not unlike the one in our Gospel lesson today.
The dialog between Naomi & Ruth, goes something like this:
"For your own good, because I love you,
Go home to your family and lead a normal life."
"I love you. I'll stay."
And the dialog between Jesus & the Samaritan leper:
"For your own good, because I love you,
Go to the priest and be declared clean."
"I love you. I'll stay."
Seems like the message is
that when the boss says "go and be normal,"
those who choose to be different and stay
get a good deal and the boss's commendation.
There is a tension here between obedience & relationship, between law & love.
Most often, perhaps even nine times of ten,
there is no conflict:
obedience best serves the relationship
and the rules sustain the love.
But now and again,
especially where foreigners -- those who are different -- are involved,
the obedience and law might get in the way of a loving relationship.
The Bible is quick to remind us that
anything that separates us from God is liable to fall into the category of sin.
Sometimes even the law that God gave us might separate us from God.
The most common biblical words for "sin"-- both the Hebrew "chattaah/chattath" and the Greek "hamartia"-- literally mean "to miss the mark."
But just what is the mark for which we are aiming?
Is it literal obedience to what we hear, like the nine who went the Temple?
Or might it be time to listen to the foreigners ?
-- those with a different perspective --
who might see more clearly than we God's true will for us.
As Paul reminds us in today's second reading,
the word of God will not be chained,
not even it seems,
by God's own previous commands.
Now certainly God's commands are not to be ignored --
but Jesus seems to be telling us to go beyond them:
To obey and also to return to God with our thanks and praise.
Jesus asks more of us even when that "going beyond" obedience threatens us (as it did Ruth)
with famine and homelessness
or (as the Apostle Paul suggests to Timothy)
brings us to "share in suffering."
Note that all ten lepers did originally obey Jesus' command to "Go"
because they were cleansed only as they went on their way toward the priest.
The leprosy went away only after they began to obey Jesus.
Yet Jesus seems pleased with the one
who rather than choosing perfect, literal obedience,
returns, praising God.
Notice that,
just as Naomi didn't voice any displeasure with Orpah's returning home,
there is no condemnation of the lepers who didn't return.
Instead Jesus asks a question:
"Where are the other nine?"
Let your imagination play with that one for a little.
If you were healed, and had done what the healer asked, what would you do next?
I'd probably celebrate somehow.
Perhaps they, too, are praising God in their own way.
Maybe each cleansed man
returned to the place where he experienced God most in order to praise God.
For normal Jewish males
(and the Greek text here does not choose a generic word for "man"
but a gender specific word)
that place would usually be the Temple.
Most likely the other guys are at the Temple,
praising God.
Or perhaps they went to their homes to celebrate.
They did what was expected.
But not the Samaritan.
Granted, the Samaritan wouldn't have been welcome in the Jerusalem Temple,
but Samaritans follow the same Law,
and he'd have had a priest of his own tradition to go to to be declared clean.
Instead, like another more famous Good Samaritan,
he has interrupted the expected action for something more important.
And like yet another biblical Samaritan -- the Woman at the Well--
the foreigner has recognized what the normal folk have missed:
That God is in Jesus.
One doesn't have to go to the Jerusalem temple
or to the Samaritans' own holy mountain,
God can be praised by falling at Jesus's feet.
And in doing so he receives a greater gift -- he is "made well"
Now, as long as we seem to have here a pattern of mild disobedience
in favor of something more important,
I'm going to do a "turn around"
with Paul's advice in our Second reading, where he writes:
"avoid wrangling over words,
which does no good but only ruins those who are listening."
I'll try not to wrangle over them and ruin you
but there are some important words in the text that we might return to.
All ten lepers are "made clean"
but only the Samaritan who returns is "made well"
"Made clean" is just that -- dirty stuff is washed away;
but "made well" means also "made whole" --
the basic meaning of the Greek "sozo" is "to save."
Ten were cleaned of their disease;
one was made whole and saved.
The Samaritan has received the greater gift.
This is good news for those who are seeking healing.
Not everyone is "made clean" -- not every disease gets "fixed,"
but everyone has the possibility of being saved and made whole.
The Samaritan's praising God and returning to thank Jesus
are evidence of the faith that makes people well --
that brings wholeness and salvation.
"Thanks and praise" -- that's the way to salvation.
These are words and concepts we make our own every Sunday when we pray:
"It is right to give God thanks and praise."
The Greek word today's Gospel uses for thanksgiving is "eucharisteo".
It is the word from which we get our English word for our worship service: "Eucharist."
The root of the word is "good gift."
And hidden behind the Greek in the Hebrew minds of Jesus and his followers,
is a Hebrew word for thanks and praise: "yadah" --
literally "to hold out one's hands" -- as in the traditional posture of prayer,
the way the priest stands at the altar.
The Samaritan leper gave thanks to Jesus for the good gift.
He knew where to turn to give thanks and praise.
And he was saved and made whole.
What about us?
Where do we turn to celebrate our good gifts?
Where do we find God?
Where do we give thanks?
Is it in our modern equivalent of the Jerusalem Temple -- the Established Church?
If so, that's good: That's what we're told to do;
there we can be cleansed like the nine literalist lepers.
It's the normal, acceptable, relatively easy way to praise God.
But some may choose a more difficult and foreign path --
not simple obedience,
but establishing a living relationship with God.
This is a dangerous and sometimes painful path.
It is what Jesus means when he says "Take up your cross and follow me."
It means looking closely at what we are told to do.
It may mean questioning authority and tradition.
It means putting God's love first, even before a literalist sense of God's law,
just as Jesus did with the Sabbath laws.
It may at times look like disobedience.
It is hearing God's law and taking a step beyond it.
Because "The word of God is not chained."
God's word and God's love
refuse to be chained or put in a box defined by cultural expectations,
whether those of our culture today or those of biblical times.
Today's readings suggest that
God moves in mysterious ways
and travels in foreign places and with people who are strangers to us.
Are we able to turn from our familiar expectations and our safe little worlds?
to turn to Jesus and pick up our cross,
saying to God:
A Sermon for the 18th Sunday after Pentecost
Habakkuk 1:1-11
I spent the better part of this past week in the Boundary Waters.
Some might say doing that was an act of faith -- or foolishness,
given that there was not only rain but hail the day we set out.
At least traveling in the wilderness requires a certain amount of trust --
in the folks that made the maps,
in the equipment we carried with us,
and in ourselves to have the stamina to get by.
But I don't think that kind of trust is what Jesus or his followers are talking about in today's gospel.
"Increase our faith" the apostles demand.
And Jesus' response is:
"If you had faith the size of a mustard seed,
you could say to this mulberry tree,
‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,'
and it would obey you."
That's a whole other ballpark than a trip to the Boundary Waters.
I trust the maps and the equipment and even myself because of experience.
They've all been tested and I've seen them work before.
It's almost like saying "I have faith that the sun will rise tomorrow."
That's not much more than a conditioned reflex.
I've seen the sun rise lots of times,
but I've yet to see someone say to a tree
"Go jump in the lake" and had it happen. . . .
Except maybe in the Boundary Waters.
There we did see trees planted in lakes.
A great act of faith?
Well, maybe.
The beavers did it.
Of course, beavers don't take down trees simply by saying "Go jump in the lake."
It's long hard work, one bite at a time.
But something faith-like keeps them working away.
Did they learn it from Mom?
Were they born with it?
Those questions biologists ask about beaver behavior
are suspiciously like the thoughts the Apostle Paul has about faith
in his second letter to Timothy.
Yep, Paul says, Timothy got it from Mom ... and Grandma, too, it seems.
And Yes again, he's had it all along: It was given to him "before the ages began."
Before the ages began the gift was given US Paul tells us.
The gift we already had was revealed when Jesus appeared.
And we learn about the gift and the revelation
from the Loises and the Eunices in our lives --
from our mothers and our grandmothers,
from our preachers and our Sunday school teachers,
from those who handed on the Christian tradition to us.
Faith is a gift.
Timothy didn't earn his faith by being an eager beaver.
He didn't work to get it or to increase it.
Neither did the apostles earn their mustard-seed size faith.
They are, as Jesus reminds them, like slaves.
Slaves cannot earn anything.
Think about that.
It's totally foreign to our culture.
We think that if we just work hard enough we can get almost anything we want.
Imagine that no matter how hard you worked or didn't work, you earned nothing.
You could work like an eager beaver,
chatter nonsense like a squirrel,
or, like a lazy human being, sleep all day in a tent,
and the reward is all the same:
You don't earn anything.
You take what the master gives you.
Jesus reminds us that slaves can't earn anything
not even a seat at the table after a hard day's work.
Just so, we can't earn anything from God
not faith, not a seat at God's table, not even our lives.
Everything we have is a gift.
Our faith is a gift.
Now,a mustard seed's worth of faith isn't much.
But it works miracles.
In another place,
Jesus says that the kingdom of God "is like a grain of mustard seed" (Luke 13:18-19)
that grows into a tree where birds can nest.
Something so tiny grows stubbornly into a large plant.
It's hard to stop mustard from growing --
it's a weed that like other weeds is a worthless nuisance.
The kingdom uses the insignificant and the worthless to do great things, to give life.
Maybe Lois or Eunice felt insignificant.
Perhaps they never expected that their faith
would nurture the seed of faith in Timothy
that spread the gospel far beyond his mother or grandmother's imagining.
We may think our own gifts are useless,
but remember the Giver has a knack for using insignificant things to work miracles.
A God who uses an impoverished baby to save the world
can surely make something miraculous from what little you have received.
Don't ignore the gift of God that is within you.
Faith is a gift that was given us before the ages began.
But it seems there's a hitch to this gift.
It is a gift that calls out to be used.
The beaver's gift of sharp teeth comes with a desire, even a need, to chew
that puts huge trees into the lake.
Timothy's gift of faith, calls him to "suffer for the gospel,"
to teach the standard that Paul has handed on to him.
The apostles' gift of tiny mustard-seed-size faith calls them to work miracles.
And they will do just that.
We don't earn our faith by good works.
So what is your faith calling you to do?
It is the gift of faith that calls you to reach out to others --
in volunteer work
in visiting someone who is sick or lonely
in financial support of any number of loving causes,
in forgiving someone who has hurt you,
and in loving "good works" of all sorts.
It is the gift of faith that has kept this church alive
through the gifts of time and ability of many.
It's the gift of faith that gives us hope for the future of this church.
Listen to Paul and "rekindle the faith that is in you"
and consider what that faith is calling you to do today.
It may be only a tiny seed, but remember:
Jesus has planted that seed,
and there's no stopping the growth,
Like the beaver taking down a huge tree one bite at a time,
the tiny mustard seed of faith God has given you
can work miracles a little bit at a time.
You've got the faith.
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Return or go somewhere new! 
The Rev. Bass Mitchell (adopted and adapted by Pat)
Luke 18:1-8
Gloom, despair, and agony on me,
Deep dark depression, excessive misery;
if it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all.
Gloom, despair, and agony on me.
Psalm 113
2 Timothy 2:3-15
Luke 17:11-19
Where you lodge, I will lodge;
Your people, all of them, shall be my people."
Psalm 37:1-18
2 Timothy 1:1-14
Luke 17:5-10
We do good works because of the gift of faith.
Now get to work.