Dishonest. Honestly.

Luke 16:1-13

“And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly…”  --Luke 16:8

Jesus’ parable in this week’s lesson reminds me of the Disney film, Pirates of the Caribbean.  I have always enjoyed this swashbuckling adventure (or should I say, “mis-adventure”) story.  In the film, the character of Captain Jack Sparrow is very much like the manager in the parable.  He is a pirate.  He is a self-serving thief and con-man who loves treasure, women and rum.  Hardly a character to emulate!  And yet, somehow, Captain Jack keeps doing the right things for the wrong reasons.  Somewhere deep beneath the crusty barnacles of his irreverent and immoral life, lies a kind heart and a weird kind of compassion that oozes out in spite of him. At one point in the movie, someone says, “Yes, he is a pirate…  And a good man.”  And there’s truth in that.  In the end, his miscreant behavior manages to bring together the hero and the heroine for a happy ending to the story.  

The dishonest manager in the parable is, well, dishonest.  As Jack says in Pirates, “You can always count on a dishonest man to be dishonest.”  That is true of this manager.  All attempts at scrubbing this man to make him seem more noble require us to read things into Jesus’ parable that simply aren’t there.  Even his own boss says he is dishonest while he is commending him!  But, in the end, his miscreant behavior significantly reduces the huge debts of the two people whose bills he adjusts.  I would guess they were grateful.  Somehow, in spite of himself, he manages to do the right thing.

Jesus seems to join the master in commending the man’s dishonesty. But, I don’t think he is suggesting that his disciples become dishonest scoundrels who squander their property. (Any more than Jesus commends the behavior of the Prodigal Son who squanders his inheritance in the parable that immediately precedes this one).  No.  Instead, I think Jesus wants the disciples  to understand that even scoundrels can do the right thing…  even if it is for the wrong reasons.  The point is, if a scoundrel like this dishonest manager can do the right thing, so can they.  

In Luke, Jesus talks a lot about wealth and possessions.  He commends those who use what they have for the sake of others (even if it is in spite of themselves!) and is critical of those who hoard their possessions or use them for their own benefit.  Jesus is trying to teach the disciples, and us, that we need to think about how weuse our possessions and wealth for the sake of others.  

Recently, I heard someone ask the question, “Do you control your money or does your money control you?”  I think that’s a good question.  Or to put it another way, “Do you serve your wealth or does it serve you?”  Or, to push it a little further, “Do you serve your wealth or do you use it to serve God?”  Or maybe even to push it a little more, “Do you serve your wealth, or does God use it, through you, to serve the world?”  Maybe even in spite of you?  Jesus’ frequent teaching throughout the Gospels suggest that how we use our money and possessions is a spiritual matter.  Generosity is good for you. It will open your heart to others and to God’s eternal generosity for you.  In the end, I like to imagine that the dishonest manager and maybe even Captain Jack Sparrow figured that out.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading!  Pray for those who help us invest wisely, and for those who give us the opportunity to share what we have with others.  

The Carpenter's Pencil

Luke 15:1-10

‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’  --Luke 15:9

Last week, during my vacation, I built a set of steps for my deck.  The old ones had rotted to the point of collapsing, and safety demanded their replacement.  I am a slow carpenter.  One of the reasons I’m slow is that I often set down my tools around the work area and then can’t find them.  During this particular building project, I managed to lose my only carpenter’s pencil.

With increasing frustration and irritation, I searched and searched for the pencil in the small area I had covered between where I had used it last and where I noticed it was missing. After searching for what seemed like forever, I was convinced it had been swallowed up by a black hole.  I was just about to give up when…  there it was… laying hidden in a tuft of green grass. I was convinced it had been spit up by the black hole.  I was sure I had searched that same spot at least ten times.   

I rejoiced.

Can you think of a time when you found something you lost?  Can you remember finding something you had given up on ever finding again, or were about to?

Think about how YOU felt. 

I think that’s what Jesus was trying to say about how God feels when God finds us!  OK, God never really loses us!  But, we humans do have a bad habit of falling out of life’s pockets and slipping into the gaps between the sofa cushions of the world.  Like pencils, we slip out of holes in shirt pockets and wind up hiding in the grass. 

No matter how lost we are, God always keeps looking for us.  Unlike me and my pencil, I don’t think God is ever ready to give up on us.  Like the woman and the coin, the scriptures teach us that the God of steadfast love persistently searches for God’s lost ones.   As Paul writes, there is nothing that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.  I believe that!  I count on it!

Jesus didn’t give up on those around him either.  He welcomed tax collectors and sinners, along with prostitutes, lepers, and those discounted by the world.  He even ate with Pharisees and others who were his enemies!  He invites us to do the same.  Not because we’re so righteous or better than the lost ones of our worlds.  Not because we’re like the woman with the coin.  But, we join Jesus’ search because we know we’re lost coins too.  We are compelled to invite everyone to the table because even the likes of us have been invited by Jesus. 

My pencil could do nothing to make me find it.  It could not shout or cry out or confess its faith in me or do anything else to help me in my search.  When it comes to being lost from God, there is nothing we can do either. And yet, somehow, God still manages to find us, reclaim us, and rejoice over us.  That’s grace.  Grace worth sharing.  The cornerstone of our faith.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Pray for those who feel lost and alone, and who wander and wait to know the God who loves them. Pray that God uses us to accompany them and help them discover the God who never loses track of any of us.  Not once.

Thanks for reading.

Behind the Scenes

Luke 14:1, 7-14

For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.  –Luke 14:11

I have always preferred working in the background. Behind the scenes.  When I was in High School, I participated in a few musicals (we only did one every-other year).  But, I was never interested in being on stage.  I was a part of the audio-visual crew.  Lights and sound.  My senior year, I was chosen to run the master light board.  I sat up in the projection booth at the back of the theater and, though I was out of sight, I felt powerful behind that huge board that controlled, well, everything.  That was, until a fuse blew on opening night plunging everything into darkness.  I won’t repeat the words the director said in my headphones. 

Jesus’ words about humility at the end of this week’s parable have always confused me.  Humility is a good thing.  I get that. To be humble is to be who you are, nothing more, nothing less.  The word comes from the same root as “humanity.” To be humble is to be human in the fullest sense of that word.  It appears that those who aspire to the place of honor in the parable are anything but humble.  They seek the limelight.  They want to be at center stage.  They want the attention focused on them.  But, Jesus warns, the limelight can go dark as quickly as it shines.  It can be embarrassing when you find out that you didn’t get the lead role.  Better to stay in the wings and wait to be called. Right?  But then he drops this line about the humble being exalted.  It’s almost as if he is suggesting that humility is the correct path to take to the limelight.  But, if your end goal is to be exalted…  is that really humility?  If you’re hiding in the projection booth reveling in the power of your humility, the lights could still go out and leave you embarrassed.  Trust me on this one.

That’s why we need to keep reading.

True humility is not about working the angles to get recognized, repaid or lauded by your admiring friends.  True humility – true humanity -- is found in the realization that life is not about you.  We were all created in the image of God, not to be gods, but to care for one another, to care for the creation, and to tend whatever little piece of the world God has placed in our hands.  In this parable and the next Jesus teaches us to care for the “poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.”  In other places it is the stranger, the prisoner, the hungry and the naked. Jesus, through his own example, shows us that we are to welcome the prostitute, the tax collector, sinners, outcasts and even our enemies.  There are people all around us every day who need our care.  And there are people all around us every day who God will use to care for us…  if we let them.  And together, we are lifted up from the ashes to praise the One who was the most human of us all.  The One who rose from the dead to give us all life to share --whether we find ourselves on stage or working behind the scenes.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  Pray that God give you the vision the see those around you in need of God’s love, and the courage to care for them.

For the Bent and Broken

Luke 13:10-17

“Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water?”  --Luke 13:15

Why go to worship?  

Some, I suppose, go to be entertained.  Good music. A good speech that makes us feel good. Others, I suppose, go because of the people.  Friends.  Acquaintances. Maybe people we’ve known for years.  People who, basically, believe and think like we do, or at least that’s what we tell ourselves.  Some go out of a sense of duty.  (Though I think this reason is fading away fast.)  We gather around Word and Sacrament because we know that’s what God wants us to do.  It’s what God expects of God’s children.  

Why go to worship?

Have you ever gone to worship because you were bent?  Broken? Tied-up and yearning for a freedom that you haven’t been able to find anywhere else?  Release from whatever evils bind you?  Have you ever come to the church looking for a word of compassion, of healing, of hope from Jesus?  

That’s why the woman in this week’s Gospel lesson came to the synagogue on that Sabbath day so long ago. And, in Jesus, she finds what she was so desperately longing for.  She receives the healing she had been seeking for eighteen long years in spite of the leader of the synagogue who would have denied it to her.

The leader of the synagogue was so bound up in the rules and religious traditions (which, after all, had come from God) which he felt duty-bound to uphold that he almost got in the way of the very thing which God intended for this child of Abraham, this beloved child of God.  

But, before we judge him, we should probably look in the mirror.  The people of God have a long history of getting in the way of ourselves! Like the leader of the synagogue, we can get so wrapped up in “the way we’ve always done it” that we completely miss the new thing God is doing in our midst.  We can get so focused on doing it “right” that we resist and can even be found working against the miracles God is performing right before our very eyes. We forget what Jesus said during another of his many sabbath conflicts, “the sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath” (Mark 2:27).  And, in the process, more than one bent woman… or man… has walked away from the church still stooped over.  

For Jesus, compassion always supersedes the rules.  For Jesus, an opportunity for healing always outweighs upholding tradition.  For Jesus, mercy always transcends judgement.  (Good thing, or we’d all be lost.)  Holding to these values of grace and love got him nailed to a cross.  The power of these life-giving values were unambiguously demonstrated when he rose from the dead three days later.  

Why worship?

Because we who have been freed cannot keep ourselves from joining our voices with the woman in our text who praised God for her healing.  We come together as bent and broken people to pray for all those who haven’t experienced the healing power of Christ that we have come to know.

People are still coming bent, broken and tied up, yearning to be released from the evils that bind them. Will we who follow in the Way of Jesus respond to them with rules and traditions…  or with the compassion of the one who freed us from our bondage to sin, death and the devil?

Peace,

Bishop Mike  

  

Pray for all those who live bent over by the evils and oppression that binds so many in our world. Pray that we respond to them with Christ-like compassion.  Thanks for reading.

Uncomfortable Truths

Luke 12:49-56

“I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed.” 

Luke 12:50

More than ten years ago now, I received some sobering news from my family physician.  I had just finished my first physical in a number of years.  I was overweight.  My blood sugar was high.  My blood pressure well above normal.  My triglycerides off the charts.  The doctor sat me down and said, “If you don’t do something about your health right now, you are not going to live to see your grandchildren.”

He spoke an uncomfortable truth and it was not good news.  

Throughout Luke, chapter 12, Jesus is preparing his disciples for the coming judgement.  He is preparing them for the coming difficult days in Jerusalem that will lead to a cross and for the challenges of the mission they will be given following Pentecost.  He speaks an uncomfortable truth, and it doesn’t sound at all like good news.  For Jesus’ disciples, these words are prophetic.  For Luke’s community, they are descriptive.  Living in the Way of Jesus has never been easy.  Jesus’ inclusive vision of the Kingdom, and his welcome of those the world would reject – lepers, sinners, tax collectors, demon possessed, Gentiles, prostitutes, outcasts, the “unclean” and others – caused division and conflict.   Making a commitment to Jesus’ Way of love, grace, forgiveness, mercy and compassion will inevitably get us cross-ways with the ways of the world.  That does not sound like good news.

But, maybe we need to look again.

My doctor’s uncomfortable truth was a wake-up call for me.  Over the next six months, I started to lose weight, changed my diet, started a meager exercise program and began to get my health under control.  The good news is that, today, at 58, I’m probably healthier than I was at 40.  

The division caused by Jesus’ vision of the Kingdom got him nailed to a cross.  He was rejected for his supposed blasphemy.  Executed as a criminal.  Forsaken by everyone.  But, in order to prove that there truly is nothing that can separate us from the love of God, not even death itself, he rose again on the third day, crushing the world’s system of division, oppression and death under the rock of the broken tomb. And that is good news!

Today, we still live in a divided world.  We still live in a world where people are rejected and cast aside.  We still live in a world where it is difficult to interpret the times, or know how things will turn out.  But we do not face the terrors of our world with no hope.  We do so empowered by the vision of an empty tomb and the peace, the shalom, the wholeness, and the LIFE it represents.  

And so, we become good news in a divided world.  

When we live in the Way of the Risen Christ, we become the presence of God’s love, grace, forgiveness, mercy and compassion for the stranger, the poor, the powerless and the suffering. For the children and the vulnerable and all those the world would turn away.  

That can be uncomfortable. But at the same time it is also blessed work.  For when we care for the “least of these,” we know that we are, in fact, caring for Christ. 

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thank-you for reading. Please pray for the immigrant, the refugee, the stranger, the homeless, the rejected and all those who desperately seek for a place to call home.   

When You Pray

Luke 11:1-13

When I was in my first call, a little over thirty years ago, I regularly visited a woman in the nursing home I’ll call Leila.  Lelia was in her late eighties and suffered from severe dementia.  She did not know who she was, or where she was, or who this strange young man who came to visit her was.  But, when we came to the Lord’s Prayer as we shared Holy Communion, her foggy eyes would clear and she would get every word right.  Every word.  Those familiar words woke something deep in her soul and drew her out.   That part of her which connected her to the God who claimed her in baptism was still attached.

The prayer that Jesus taught his disciples some two thousand years ago has reverberated through the life of the Church and continues to instruct our souls to this day.  It is more than just a rote prayer to be rambled off. If prayer is one of the primary ways we live out our relationship with God, the Lord’s Prayer helps define that relationship and how that relationship shapes our lives as God’s children.

Father, hallowed be your name.

Our Creator God IS holy. Transcendent.  Beyond human comprehension.  Unable to be captured fully in human language or art.  Wholly other.  And yet, the whole of scripture bears witness to the immanent, personal, compassionate and loving presence of God in the life of the world.  We hallow God’s name – that is, we worship God – because of this undeserved and gracious gift of presence.  We hallow God’s name out of a sense of awe, gratitude, wonder and humility that God would even recognize, let alone love, the little dust specks in the universe each of us are.  Worship is not about being entertained.  Worship is about pausing at least once a week to acknowledge and give thanks for this amazing truth.

Give us each day our daily bread.

Inhale.  Feel your breath fill your lungs.  Let it out slowly.  That breath and every one you have taken before it and will take after it is pure gift. Spend a few minutes reflecting on the space you currently occupy.  What do you see?  Look at the details.  What do you hear, feel, smell?  Everything within the reach of your senses and beyond is a gift.  Pure gift.  The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, “The whole world is charged with the grandeur of God.”  Every time we pray for our daily bread we acknowledge this fact.  We ask that God might help us see its truth.  We are reminded that, as Christians, we have a responsibility to share our daily bread (which isn’t ours at all) with those around us – from our breath to our wealth.

Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.

Because of Christ, we know our sins are already forgiven.  That’s what the cross and resurrection were about.  The Passion Story teaches us that God’s love is stronger than hate, that God’s life is stronger than death and that there is nothing, NOTHING, in heaven or on earth that can separate us from God’s love.  But that is more than a personal eternal insurance policy.  When we pray this prayer we are committing ourselves to work for reconciliation.  God’s forgiveness empowers our forgiveness. Our meager, sometimes successful and often failed attempts at forgiveness help us to understand the real depths of God’s forgiveness for us.  Knowing that God forgives us gives us the courage to try forgiving again.

And do not bring us to the time of trial.

Trials come.  Suffering comes.   Brokenness is part and parcel of human existence in a broken world.  Like Jesus prayed for the cup of suffering to be taken from him, we pray that we might be spared what we know is inevitable.  Like Jesus got up from prayer and went to the cross, so too we pray we might be given the strength we need to face what we must.  Jesus promises to be with us to the end of the age. God promises to go with us through the times of trial, yes, even through death itself.  

Luke’s version of the Lord’s Prayer acknowledges God’s steadfast love, inexhaustible grace, and how it can and does shape who we are and how we live even when, like Leila, it’s the only thing we have left.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike.

Thank-you for reading. Keep praying!

Gracepoint

Luke 10:38-42

Mary…  sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.  –Luke 10:39

For a long time now, I have had a vision of creating a community of listening.  I have called this place, “Gracepoint.”  A point of grace.  Gracepoint would be a place apart from the frantic pace of life in today’s world.  A place that holds sacred space open.  A place of healing.  A place dedicated to prayer and reflection.  A place where people could stop for a bit to hear the still small voice of God, contemplate the Word, and sit at the Lord’s feet and just listen.  I realize there are already such places in the world.  Retreat centers.  Monasteries.  Bible camps.  But there are not nearly enough of them.   

There are plenty of places where Martha would be comfortable. Places where people are dedicated to building and binding and mission and ministry and witness and teaching and preaching and doing God’s work with our hands.  Places of action and advocacy.  Places of service and compassion.  Places where Samaritans care for people who have been cast into ditches.  People the world walks by unnoticed.  Places where people dive into the frantic brokenness of the world and work tirelessly to share the love of Christ.  This is important work!  Holy work!  Gospel work! But sometimes, I fear that we risk getting so busy with our ministry that we lose our moorings and our roots and Jesus winds up just getting honorable mention in what WE are doing to save the world.  

I live and work in Martha’s world.  But, I yearn for Mary’s.  Both are important and necessary in the life of the Body of Christ.  But I confess that, there are days, when I would step out of Martha’s world in a heartbeat if God opened the door to bring the Gracepoint I have imagined into being.  But, right now, there are still dishes to be done.  And, like the rest of us, I have to settle for finding those points of grace to reconnect to Christ wherever I can in the midst of the busy-ness of life.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

I pray that you can find times to sit at Jesus’ feet and just listen.  Thanks for reading.

Proclaim the Reign

Luke 10:1-24

“Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them ‘The kingdom of God has come near you.” --Luke 10:8-9

I tend to be an optimist. There is something deep inside me that is convinced that problems can be solved, that people can work through conflicts, that people and congregations can grow and that positive change is possible. I generally assume that most people are people of good will and wantto work things out, solve problems and contribute to positive change even when we don’t see those things in the same way. But, lately, I’ve been finding it harder and harder to maintain my optimistic worldview.  Cynicism has crept in.  I’ve begun to wonder if anything ever will change.  I have been feeling tired of trying.  

In this week’s lesson, Jesus sends seventy people out to prepare the way for him as he makes his way to Jerusalem and to the cross.   He gives the seventy a pretty focused mission: to extend peace to the people they meet, cure the sick and proclaim the kingdom of God.  He warns them that they will meet resistance, but also that they should receive the hospitality extended to them.

I admit, I’ve been wrestling with what it means to proclaim the Reign of God this week. It’s hard to proclaim the Reign of God if you can’t see it.  And it is hard to see it if you are overcome by a fatalistic cynicism that limits your vision like a nighttime fog on a twisty road.     But, then I realized that in spite of the many legitimate reasons to succumb to cynicism and even despair, God is at work in the world!  So here are just a few examples.  Maybe you can think of a few of your own.

Just a few weeks ago, I was in Tanzania visiting our companion church there.  The Tanzanian Lutheran Church is one of the fastest growing churches in the world.  That alone is cause for celebration.  But, I was struck by their hospitality, their welcome and their generosity.  I was awed by their excitement and eagerness to share their faith with us, and with anyone who will listen.

I thought about the many little churches (15-50 in worship) in our synod who are deeply engaged in caring for people in the name of Christ: immigrants, the homeless, the hungry, the poor, the suffering, the struggling, strangers and friends in their communities. Our churches have meal programs, and are involved in advocacy efforts, and are working to build bridges with “the other” right outside their doors.

I thought about congregations who are welcoming new people to the faith.  Who are growing in faith, love and devotion to God.  Two of our smallest congregations have each baptized over a half-dozen people in the last year!  One of our largest congregations continues to grow steadily and welcome newcomers.  More than one congregation has embraced the radical inclusivity of the Reign of God and it shows in the vibrancy of their ministries both inside and outside of their church walls.

The Reign of God is drawing near!  God’s Shalom – wholeness, peace, healing – is happening!  The sick are being cured!  Oh, there is still resistance.  Always will be.  Jesus is clear about that.  But he is also clear about the Good News that, because God reigns, all things are possible – including resurrection and new life.

I think I feel a spark of optimism.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  I pray you see the Reign of God breaking into your world this week.

Who is My Neighbor?

Galatians 5:13-23

For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”  --Galatians 5:13-14

Paul’s words to the Galatians echo the teachings of Jesus.  Jesus says that the law is summed up in two commandments:  “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’  This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Matthew 22:38-39).  But, what does it mean to “love your neighbor as yourself?”  In discussing this with a lawyer (an expert in the Law), the lawyer asks Jesus this question, “Who is my neighbor?”  Good question.  In response, Jesus tells the well-known “Parable of the Good Samaritan,” a story about a Samaritan caring for a Jew who had been beaten and robbed. (Luke 10:25-37). Samaritans and Jews did not like each other, and did not get along, a point that would not have been missed by the lawyer.  But the answer to the lawyer’s question, “Who is a neighbor?” is ultimately this:  “The one who shows mercy.”  Being a neighbor is to show mercy.  Even to one others might ignore, avoid or even disdain. But, what does mercy look like?   In the “Parable of the Sheep and the Goats” in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus tells his listeners that the one who feeds the hungry, gives a drink to the thirsty, welcomes the stranger and clothes the naked and cares for the “least of these,” does it to him.  (Matthew 25:31-46)  That’s mercy. Compassion.  Kindness. In the “Sermon on the Mount,”  Jesus teaches that we should even love our enemies! (Matthew 5:43-44).  Paul teaches that, through Christ, we are freed from sin, death and the devil, not just for our own sakes, but so that we might serve our neighbors, and to do the good works God has prepared for us to do. (Galatians 5:1-14, Ephesians 2:8-10).

So, in our own time, who is our neighbor?  Our neighbor is not just the person who lives in the house across the street, or who sits in the pew next to us on Sunday morning.  Our neighbor is also the person who is of a different race, or ethnicity or who speaks a different language, or comes from a different culture.  Our neighbor is also the person who is lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or describes their gender in a way other than we do.  Our neighbor is the immigrant at the border, or living in our community, or the refugee seeking asylum from violence and war.  Our neighbor is the person who we disagree with on almost every hot button issue out there, who votes the opposite way we do, and who says and posts stuff that makes our blood boil.

The question is, how do we love all these neighbors in the way of Jesus?  With mercy, compassion, kindness and servanthood. The way Jesus taught us to love.  The way Jesus himself lived.  Like the one who, while we were still sinners, gave his life for our own.  Luther put it this way in his explanation of the 8^thCommandment,  “We are to fear and love God, so that we do not tell lies about our neighbors, betray or slander them, or destroy their reputations.  Instead we are to come to their defense, speak well of them, and interpret everything they do in the best possible light.”   

This “loving our neighbor” business is complex, challenging and never easy.  We often fail at it miserably.  Sin, death, and evil continue to have their way with us.  Lord have mercy on us!  And, praise God!  In Christ, the Lord does, graciously freeing us through the power of forgiveness so that we might go about the work at loving our neighbors again and again.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading. Pray for those neighbors who you find it hard to love.

Afraid of Jesus?

Luke 8:26-39

Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear.  –Luke 8:37

A few years ago, my wife was asked to rehab an injured, young blue heron.  Herons are large, beautiful birds with long sharp bills and lots of attitude.  She put the bird in our guest bathroom tub and set to work caring for the bird.  The bird didn’t realize she was trying to help.  She had to wear a protective mask to keep the bird from poking out an eye.  It reacted in fear whenever she tried to take care of it.  But her love overpowered the bird’s fear and, eventually, she returned the bird to the wild.  (This is a picture of release day)

This week, I’ve been struck by the attitude of the Gerasenes to Jesus’ healing (the Greek literally says, “saving”) of one of their own.  One would have thought they would be grateful for Jesus’ saving act which both freed the man from his torment, and the community from their need to try to control him.  Instead, like my wife’s blue heron, they react with fear.  Rather than thank Jesus – they ask him to leave.   

In pondering all this, I wonder, are there times when we, like the Garasenes, are afraid of Jesus and his power?  Of his power to transform us through the renewing of our minds? Of his power to change us.  Of his power to save us?  Change can be a scary thing, and Jesus’ love can change us!

It’s easy, I think, to turn Jesus into a sweet guy who we can call on when we need him; to see him only as a kindly comforter.  But, that’s not the Jesus we meet in the New Testament. Jesus embodies God’s love and compassion, yes.  But Jesus also wields God’s awe-full and overwhelming power.  He calms stormy seas with a word.  He overcomes legions of demons.  He defeats the power of death itself.  And that kind of power can upset the apple carts of our lives, run our precious herds off the sides of cliffs, and knock over our sacred cows.  Jesus’ teachings can challenge us, and sometimes, yes, even terrify us, especially when we are comfortable with the status quo -– as unsavory as that status quo may be.  

Sometimes Jesus’ love and grace for us can feel like law to us, especially when his love for us challenges us to love in new and not-so-easy ways.  Sometimes Jesus’ love and grace comes as Gospel, as good news for our weary, tormented souls. Often times, it comes as a little bit of both!

When we feel challenged by Jesus’ teachings, we might be tempted to ask Jesus to leave.  Or, we might just look for another church where they preach a less uncomfortable Jesus. A Jesus who doesn’t occasionally strike fear in our hearts.

We can be a lot like blue herons.  But the good news is that Jesus just keeps on loving us, and saving us and healing us, and sending us out to declare how much God in Christ has done for us. 

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  Pray for those who are tormented to be comforted, and for all of us to be challenged by the powerful, life changing love of our Lord.

The Assault on Truth

John 16:12-15

[The Spirit of truth] will guide you into all the truth.  –John 16:13

“What is truth?”  Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea, asks Jesus this question during Jesus’ trial before his execution.  It’s a question being asked a lot these days.  In recent years, the whole idea of “truth” has been under assault.  There is, it seems to me, an emerging cultural belief that each of us has the right and responsibility to define our own “truth;” that “truth” is a relative thing tethered to our own personal experience.  In the era of “fake news” and media spin and our tendency to read and watch and listen only what we happen to agree with, this relativism divides us into rigid camps of certainty and, at the same time, leaves us feeling like we are walking on glare ice much of the time. 

Against the backdrop of this relativistic assault on the whole concept of “truth,” how do we hear Jesus’ promise that the “Spirit of truth will guide us into all the truth”?  “Truth” is a key concept in the Gospel of John. In John, Jesus himself defines the truth because of his relationship with the Father who is the source and basis of all truth.  According to John, God’s Word is truth and Jesus is that Word made flesh.  It is the Spirit of truth which opens our hearts and minds to see the truth that Jesus embodies.  As disciples of Jesus, we do not define our own truth, Jesus does.  As disciples of Jesus, it is not our personal experiences that create our truth, but our trust that, in Christ, we come to know the Truth that is God.

That’s heady stuff. But, if we are to find a solid place to stand in the whirling world of relative truth, it gives us a place to start.  And, that place is found in teaching and way Jesus himself.   It is found in the life, death and resurrection of the one who came to show us the depth of God’s great love for the world – the whole world – no exceptions. It is found in the one who says to Pilate that his “kingdom is not from this world” (John 18:36) who transforms the world by defeating sin, death and the devil, freeing us from fear so that we might love others (yes, even our enemies) as he loved us.

So, is this just one more relativistic “truth” in a world of competing truths?  Perhaps.  But I believe it is something more.  Much more. The Truth which Jesus embodies reflects the deep wisdom that lies at the heart of all creation.  Why?  Because the Truth he reveals is the God who created the heavens and the earth, and you and me, and everything that exists.  He reveals a Truth worth staking our life on because it gives life not just to me, but to everyone else – even those who think and believe and act differently than I do. 

This is why proclaiming the word and witness of Jesus needs to be at the very center of who we are and what we are about as disciples of Christ.  It can’t just be background noise, or subtext or corollary to a life of faith.  It is the Truth which transforms the world, even when we, as is so often the case, fail in our efforts to do so ourselves.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thank-you for reading.   

Between Betrayal and Denial

John 13:31-35

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”  -John 13:34

In just a few days’ time, I will be on my way to visit my friends in the Morogoro Diocese of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania.  I will be accompanying four women from the Arkansas-Oklahoma Synod who are going to Tanzania to begin building relationships between women in our synod and women in the diocese.  This is not a “service trip.”  We are not going to “do for…” the people there.  We are going, quite simply, to get to know one another better, so that we might accompany one another in mission and ministry more effectively in the future.  We offer ourselves.  They offer themselves.  We will give and receive.  They will give and receive.  Together, we will learn from one another in a deeper way what Jesus means when he tells us to love one another as he has loved us.  We will celebrate both the ways we are different and the ways we share a common humanity and faith.

It is striking to me that Jesus’ new commandment to love one another as he loved us (which he demonstrated by washing his disciple’s feet – the master serving the student) is sandwiched in between Judas leaving the upper room to betray Jesus and Jesus telling Peter that he will deny him three times.  Between betrayal and denial, Jesus calls his disciples to a servant-love that will bind them to one another in the dark and painful days that lie immediately ahead of them, and on the challenging and often dangerous journey they will take following the Resurrection and Pentecost.

Learning to love like Jesus loves, means doing the hard work of figuring out how to love one another when we find ourselves living in the tension between betrayal and denial.  No easy task.  

What I hope and pray we will all learn during our time in Tanzania is that Jesus’ love is so powerful that it transcends a world that is fractured by factions and fighting.  I hope we will experience how Jesus’ love binds disciples across cultures and languages and nations and anything else that might divide us.  I pray that Jesus’ love will move us beyond platitudes and paternalism, beyond romantic mushiness and sentimental sweetness, to take seriously those things that divide us, embrace the wonder of our diversity and motivate us to work together for the good of all people.  All people.  

In a world where fleeing immigrants are treated as less than human, where people are attacked in subtle and not-so-subtle ways because of the color of their skin, the language they speak, the religion they practice, their orientation or their gender, learning to love in the way of Jesus is a critical step in learning how to walk together as siblings and as friends.

Sometimes, it takes going half way around the world to figure that out.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Please pray for us as we travel this next week. Look for the next “On the Way” reflection in two weeks.  Thanks for reading!

The Mortality Factor

John 10:22-30

“I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.  No one will snatch them out of my hand.”  --John 10:28

I don’t think I fully appreciated my own mortality until my senior year of High School.  Sure, I knew, intellectually, that one day I would die. But, like most seventeen-year-olds, I figured that was a long, long way off.  But then, one of my peers died.  He was in the class after mine.  He was driving home from out of town late one night when his car left the road and crashed. We weren’t close friends, though I knew him and we talked from time to time.  We had talked just a few days before he died.  I remember how hard it was to get my head around the fact that he was gone.  That death had claimed someone my age.  That my youth did not exempt me from dying.  His death forty years ago had a huge impact on me, and I still think about him from time to time.

Today, in the light of school shootings, kids being gunned down in the streets of our cities and the pervasive reality of violence in our world, the fact that the reality of my mortality didn’t sink in until I was seventeen almost seems quaint.  On the other hand, Americans seem bent on doing everything we can to defy life’s ultimate reality, and to push death back back as much as possible.  But, the truth is, death is coming for all of us, and it is no respecter of age, economic status, privilege, power or place.  Our inevitable mortality is a problem that we, on our own, cannot fix.

Jesus’ promise of eternal life stands out in bold relief against the backdrop of this cold reality. It almost seems too good to be true. And, for some, it is.  But for those who believe it, it has the power to change our whole way of looking at, and living our lives.  Knowing that, though we will all die,  death will not have the last word can give us a bold confidence to be who God created us to be, and the courage to face our mortality head on, not avoid, defy or deny it.   But, even more, knowing that, through Christ, our lives have been given to us, allows us to live with gratitude and thankfulness for how ever many days we have been given.  Knowing that our futures are secure and that no one and no thing can snatch us from God’s hand means we don’t have to live fighting for our own survival all the time.  It frees us to live, not for ourselves, but for the sake of sharing the life we have been given with one another and for joining hands and fighting the pervasive reality of death together.

Eternal life is an amazing gift not just for some point down the road, but right here, right now.

This doesn’t mean that Jesus’ sheep don’t have struggles, get sick, suffer and die.  We do.  It just means that we know that we never have to face the valley of the shadow of death alone and that there is always, always life waiting on the other side.  That’s the hope of the Resurrection.  That’s the hope of Easter.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.

Six Minutes of Fear

John 20:19-31

Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”  --John 20:19

Fear.  Intense.  Paralyzing. Panic-stricken.  Fear.  Totally out of control, not able to do anything.  Nothing.  All my problem solving skills stymied.  Useless. It was just six minutes.  Six minutes.  But it was a long, long, long six minutes.

Fear is different than anxiety.  Anxiety is that vague, untethered sense of dis-ease that something in my life is not quite as it should be.  Fear is focused, located, specific.  Anxiety gnaws at you.  Fear grips you.  Anxiety searches for a place to settle, and doesn’t.  Or does, in all the wrong places.  Fear comes at you head-on, smacks you upside the head and stabs you in the heart.

Today, I am reading this week’s familiar Easter text through a different lens.  Through the lens of six minutes of fear.

For the disciples it had been three days of fear.  Jesus, their master and friend, had been brutally crucified and they knew, just knew, they were next.  Jesus was gone.  A problem that could not be solved.  A change that could not be undone. They didn’t know what to do.  They were paralyzed.  Panic-stricken.  Trapped.

And then, Jesus was there. “Peace be with you.”  He said.  And in what I now believe is probably one of the most understated lines in all of scripture, John tells us, “Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.” That line can’t possibly capture the unbelievable relief, the release, the liberating joy of that moment.  One cannot even begin to put words on the to-good-to-be-true feeling they must have felt.  Jesus had to say it again, “Peace be with you,” before his words had any chance of sinking in.

In the midst of my six minutes of fear, I couldn’t hear those words either.  You can’t.  Not in that place.  You can pray. Plead.  Beg.  Yearn for God to do something about which you can do nothing.  And I did.  But peace? No.  Peace comes in the seventh minute.  Peace comes when you are sitting on the floor shaking, the imminent danger past. Peace comes when the fear begins to drain away.

And then you realize it. You realize that Jesus is with you. That God was with you all along. That’s when you consider the Good News of Easter: that because Jesus is alive, there truly is nothing in heaven or on earth that can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. And you believe it.  You have to.  Because, in the face of fear, nothing else makes sense.

“Christ is risen!” The Church proclaims during the seven weeks of the Easter season.  “Christ is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!” It is a desperate prayer in the face of fear.   It is a shout of rejoicing because we too have seen the Living Lord.

Peace be with you.

Bishop Mike.

Thank-you for reading. My prayer of gratitude this week is for first responders and all those who come to help when we are paralyzed by fear.

PS: Next week is Synod Assembly week here in the Arkansas-Oklahoma Synod, so there won’t be an “On the Way.” See you again in two weeks.

From Death to Life

Luke 24:1-12

“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen!” –Luke 24:5

There are two things that everyone has in common.  No exceptions.  It doesn’t matter where you come from, or how old or young you are. No matter your gender, your sexual orientation or the color of your skin.  It is true whether you are poor or wealthy, powerless or powerful. There are two things that bind together every single human being who has ever lived or ever will live – and in fact, every living thing that has ever creeped upon the earth.   

And it’s just this:  

Every single one of us was, at some point in the past, born.  And, unless Christ comes again in glory, every single one of us will, one day, die. This path from life to death is one that we all must follow.  No exceptions.

But, during these Holy Days from Maundy Thursday through Easter Sunday we Christians tell a different story.  As we sit and wait and watch between the darkness of Good Friday and the sunlight of Easter morning we travel a different path: the path from death to life, from the cross of Christ to an empty tomb.  And it is this journey from death to life that makes all the difference to that other journey, the one from life to death, from birth to the grave that we all travel.  

It is this journey from death to life that brings us hope, and even joy, as we travel the sometimes, even often times, difficult path we call “life.”  It brings us hope, because the story of Jesus’ journey from death to life reminds us that God travels with us every day of our lives, and even more, that God will carry us through the deaths that will inevitably come to us and on into eternal life.  The Good News of Easter is that God is not only with us, but that God’s steadfast love and enduring mercy and reconciling power is even more powerful than death itself!  

Because of Jesus, we know this is true!

Someone -- I don’t remember who -- once said that the definition of “courage” is not “living without fear,” but the ability to live boldly in the face of fear, and even in spite of the fear.  The truth that God is with us,

And that God’s love, mercy and reconciling power is stronger than death can give us the courage and the strength we need to face the dark days of our lives and the shadow of the valley of death as it descends upon us.  It can give us the courage and strength we need to join God in living out God’s steadfast love, enduring mercy and reconciling power in the context of our own lives. 

There are three things that every one of us has in common.  No exceptions.  Every one of us was, at some time in the past, born.  And every one of us will, at some time in the future, die.  And, because of Easter, we know that every single one of us is loved, deeply loved, by the God who created us, and who walks with us, both now and forever, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Have a Blessed Easter!

Bishop Mike.

Thanks for reading!

Why Jesus?

Philippians 2:5-11

And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.  –Philippians 2:7-8

During bible study at a congregation council meeting many years ago, one of the council members asked a question that has stayed with me.  “What makes the church different than say, the Rotary Club?”  The simple answer is, of course, “Jesus.”  But (in good Lutheran fashion) the follow up question is “So, what does this mean?”  

As Christians get ready to enter into another Holy Week, I think it is a good time to pause for a moment and ask ourselves again, “Why Jesus?”  and the corollary question, “Why church?”  How does Jesus make the church different than the Rotary (or any other organization for that matter)?   

My answer to that question usually starts with a statement about what the church is not.  In my humble opinion, the Church is not…

…A social club for like-minded people.  The purpose of being a church is not to get together and have a good time with people. Now, don’t get me wrong.  There is nothing wrong with getting together, having a good time and building friendships. We humans need community.  But, it is in the community of faith where our faith is shaped, where we hear the Word proclaimed and share in the sacraments and learn the Way of Life that Jesus teaches.  Christian communities form disciples of Jesus, just like Jesus raised up his disciples in community.  

The church is also not…

…A social service agency or political action committee (conservative or liberal).  There are lots of organizations that do both of these things well with no reference to Jesus whatsoever.  Again, don’t get me wrong.  For Christians, loving our neighbors is not an option.  It is a command.  The Church has started many social service agencies and has advocated for justice through its many centuries. But, this work does not set us apart.

So, why Church?   I would say that the Church exists…

…To tell the story of Jesus. I think this is the number one reason God called the Church into being.  The Church’s primary calling is to proclaim the Good News that, through Jesus death has been defeated by the creative power of God’s love and life.  The Rotary doesn’t do that.  The garden club doesn’t do that.  The Red Cross doesn’t do that.  Neither the Democratic nor the Republican Party do that.  Only the Church does.

The Church exists…

…To live in the Way of Jesus.  Christians not only proclaim the death and resurrection of Jesus, we also strive (imperfectly) to model our lives after the life of Jesus.  Because Jesus loved, we love.  Because Jesus reached out to all people, we reach out to all people (exclusive of none).  Because Jesus healed the sick, cast out demons and fed the hungry multitudes, we work for healing, hope and respond to human need.  When it is at its best, the Church shows the world what the Reign of God looks like;  a Reign which transcends the limits of all our human institutions, organizations, governments and politics.  

The Church exists…

…To invite people into the love and life Jesus offers.  Whether in proclaiming the Good News by telling Jesus’ story, or sharing that Good News through acts of love, and mercy, compassion and kindness, justice and peacemaking, we invite others to join us in this way of life that gives life.

So, why Jesus?  

Jesus embodies the love of God for the whole world, and invites us into that love. 

Jesus accompanies us through the power of the Spirit and shows us, and all people, the way to hope and healing and wholeness.

Jesus opens a way for us through death and into life not only when we die, but as we face the thousands of “little deaths” that shape our lives.  

Sharing the mind of Christ is what distinguishes us from the Rotary, and every other institution, organization or group.

That’s how I would answer the question.  How would you?

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading!  Have a blessed Holy Week!