The Reformation and Acceptance

Wow.  It’s going to be 500 years.  To be honest it’s hard to know what to say.  Like the anniversaries of so many momentous events, whether they be of the birth of a nation, the calamity and tragedy of an attack, or the commemoration of the actions of a lone priest and Bible professor in Wittenberg, Germany, it is difficult, indeed, I daresay impossible, to sum up in one 15 minute speech all the change, all the emotion, all the personal meaning that would be found in four small nails on the doors of that rather unassuming little church half a millennium ago.  I mean, what do we say?  How do we even begin?  Do we quote important speeches, do we go into history and catechisms and confessions?  I don’t believe I could do all of that justice in a semester let alone in just one sermon. 

But as a Protestant, as a long standing fan of Mr. Martin Luther, and as someone who  simply tries to embody the best of what the Reformation stands for, I believe all of the Reformers, be they Lutheran, Calvinist, Anabaptist or otherwise, would simply say, “Don’t”.  They would say, “We did not fight for the Reformation … we did not fight for denominations, for seminaries, or 16^th century theology - we fought for the gospel.  We weren’t seeking something new; new traditions, new ways of doing things; rather we sought the return of something very old – something that existed from the very beginning.  We wanted the Word unburdened and that is all.” 

As such, ladies and gentlemen, I do not believe I have it within me to describe to you all that the Reformation means.   I can only take to heart its one true lesson: Preach the gospel … and do so by means of a Pixar movie.  Ok, I admit it.  I made that last part up.    

“Pixar?”, you may ask.  What do the Reformation, our gospel lesson, and Pixar have to do with one another?  Well, in this case quite a bit.  Amongst many of Pixar’s films, there is one in particular that has stuck with me over the years.  It is a film called, “The Incredibles”.  Now, if you are not familiar with this title, “The Incredibles” details the story of Robert and Helen Parr, Mr. and Mrs. Incredible.  They are not just normal every day people.  They are superheroes, but they are forced to live like normal every day people.  In a society that no longer values the miraculous, in a world that no longer wonders at the impossible, Robert and Helen Parr must hide their incredible gifts  - even if it means they can no longer help others in the process.  Indeed, instead of stopping robberies and saving innocents from disaster, Robert now works in the insurance industry of all places, and his boss is Robert’s opposite in every conceivable way.  Robert, of course, has his problems, but overall he is a compassionate, selfless, and loving human being - a big man with a big heart who is forced to exist in a world that’s suffocating him with its smallness.  Gilbert Huph, however, is Robert’s supervisor.  In contrast to Robert’s big-ness, Gilbert Huph is a reprehensible little rat of a man.  He is greedy, underhanded; He is the kind of man that only does the right thing when the law requires him to, and he make’s Bob’s life absolutely miserable. 

Gilbert Huph, you see, is a Zaccheus character.  That is who Zaccheus is in the text.  Zaccheus is not some misunderstood short-fellow with a heart of gold.  In the first century he is a short, ridiculous little money monger, a chief tax collector who got wealthy selling out his own countrymen - the very people he was supposed to help.  He is cold, He is uncaring, … and he has all the power.  No, in our gospel lesson, Zaccheus is not the hero.  

But this doesn’t sound like the Zaccheus we know at all does it?  Zaccheus isn’t supposed to be this way.  He’s the example we love to set for ourselves.  “Be like, Zaccheus!” we’ve been told.  Zaccheus did everything he could to meet Jesus. Be bold and let nothing stop you in your quest to meet the Christ.  This has largely been the message of American Protestantism.    It’s a good message.  As one of your pastors, yes, I implore you to not let anything hinder you from meeting Christ.  I guarantee you, you will not be the same because of it.  But while I would agree that this message is good, as a believer in the Reformation and what it stands for, I must be honest.  The message is good, but it is not accurate.  Indeed, I would not only call it inaccurate but a dangerous diversion from what Luke is trying to say.  It is not the first time the Church has done such a thing.  The Church over time co-opts many of these stories and coerces them to mean something that they don’t, something much nicer and easier to swallow.  It is like the myth concerning Jesus’ statement about camels and the “Eye of a Needle”.  As the myth goes, the Needle’s Eye was supposedly a very narrow gate into Jerusalem, quite the squeeze for a merchant to bring his camels through.  Jesus didn’t really mean that it was easier for literal camel to go through the literal eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven.  That couldn’t possibly be the case because I myself want to be rich.  So rather than taking Jesus seriously, rather than coming to terms with the fact material wealth often has spiritual consequences very few of us are born to handle, we believe something easy, something convenient, and something entirely made up.  In the same way we have taken this Zaccheus story and made it more palatable to our own tastes.  

No, Zaccheus in the ancient world is hardly someone to aspire to.  As a tax collector, indeed as the chief tax collector he would be largely uncaring of the poor.  The poor would have been how he made his money, for the poor would be least able to fight him.  Likewise, Zaccheus does not offer to pay back those he robbed fourfold to show that his conscience is somehow clean but rather because he really did rob people.  That Jesus lumps him in with the lost in need of saving shows Zaccheus is not misunderstood by his fellow Jews.   Zaccheus is not the example, ladies and gentlemen, he’s the challenge.  Like Mr. Huph from the Incredibles, Zaccheus is the person who has literally been robbing and cheating others his entire career, becoming very wealthy and powerful off of their suffering.  In the first century, make no mistake, people went hungry and may have even died because of people like him.  He is the villain, and like Mr. Gilbert Huph, he is the embodiment of everything that is wrong with the system.  He is not the man looking to finally show people what a good person he is, Zaccheus is the black sheep of the Hebrew family.  He’s the guy who takes advantage of people, never gives back, and then because of this one act wants to be forgiven for a lifetime of misdeeds … and Jesus gives it to him.  Do you get it?

Living in 21st century America we often forget that these Bible stories are preserved for us, not written to us.  There’s a difference.  Luke, you see, didn’t know one drop of English, and neither could Matthew  Mark or John have told you remotely what an American even was, let alone where to find one.  Our Scriptures speak to us, that is part of their miracle, but we can’t confuse that with the fact that these stories weren’t told to us.  They were told to audiences with vastly different cultures and vastly different worldviews.  Luke was written to a first century Roman audience and to a first century Roman audience Zaccheus is literally the most ridiculous character they could possible imagine, and Luke just reported that they have to be in fellowship with him.  Jesus was accepting him into the fold, it’s a done deal.  To a Roman Gentile they would say to have the same faith as a Jew was crazy enough, but now they not only have to be in fellowship with the Jews but specifically this Jew.  They have to worship with Gilbert Huph, this little rat running a protection racket in Hill-Billy Judea because NOW he wants to be accepted, NOW he suddenly wants to be part of the community?  And Jesus says, “Yeah, Gilbert Huph, too.”

Ecclesia Semper Reformanda, my friends, Ecclesia Semper Reformanda.  The Church must always be reformed.  Reformation is not something “they” out there do.  It is not done by strangers, it is done by “us” and this lesson lies at its very core.  The heart of all reform asks this basic question of human compassion, “Who are we excluding?”  I won’t lie to you, ladies and gentlemen, Christianity reforms itself about every 500 years, and as a Church we are showing every sign of it.  Mistrust in the Church’s institutions, irrelevance of theology, belief, and worship in the surrounding culture - all of that was there in Luther’s time as it was several times before and is again now.  And I will warn you, how believers look in every era is very different.  Just as Roman Catholics believed the end was coming with Protestantism, just as Christians before Nicaea were deeply disturbed about Roman involvement both during and after Nicaea, in each era of the church there is this question, “How can THIS PERSON be in the same worship service … as me?”  And so, I would not be taking my duties as your pastor seriously if I didn’t warn you that the people that come through those doors in the coming decades may not be who we imagine, indeed they might not even be to our liking. 

And so, this 500^th anniversary of the Reformation, as a Protestant myself who believes in the unburdened Word, I have to ask you, who is your Zaccheus?  Who is the literally most ridiculous person you could imagine sitting in the pew next to you?  I mean, I could go on up here, hitting every point the televangelists cover, but the fact is I love you too much to do that.  We could go on about the need to forgive people with criminal records or other “sinners”, in whatever easy way we wish to define that term, but truth be told I don’t think that’s our problem as Middle Class Protestants.  So, I’ll ask again, who is your Zaccheus?  Is he Saudi Arabian?  An Iraqi?  Is he flamboyantly gay?  Maybe she wears spiked leather and black lipstick, maybe she swears a lot and is disrespectful, maybe she is really a he. 

Every congregation says it is welcoming, and every congregation believes themselves when they say that Christ died for all, but no congregation really ask themselves this question.  Ladies and gentlemen, we can’t be an accepting church unless we’ve identified who our Zaccheus are.  The fact is we can say we are a loving and welcoming church until we are blue in the face, but unless we challenge ourselves and really take a hard look at what we believe a believer looks like, if we don’t work to undo our preconceived notions we will shoot ourselves in the foot every single time.

But here is the good news.  We don’t have to be ready for whomever God throws at us, be it within these four walls or out there in the world.   We don’t have to have plans for every single contingency, nor do we have to spend hour upon hour trying to be prepared.  God does not require us to be ready, for that is impossible, we just have to be willing. 

Amen and Amen.   

Mysticism and the Cost of Discipleship

Good morning!  You know, I have been preaching up here for awhile now, and I’ve realized in my preaching that in order to help bring the gospel home to people I’ve had to reveal many different facets of myself.  Sometimes Keven the Teacher has had to appear behind this pulpit, taking you deep within the history and the language of the Scriptures to help you see their insights.  Sometimes there is Keven the News Reporter, telling you of current events and local concerns.  Still other times there is Keven the family man, wryly telling bad jokes and recounting wild stories as the situation warrants.  Today, however, I must bring out someone different.  In my honest estimation, our gospel text for today is by far the toughest lesson a Christian must learn.  It is not tough in the sense our lesson is difficult to understand, the language and context are clear enough.  It is also not tough because it is hard to relate to, indeed it strikes to the innermost core of the Christian life, moreso than any news report or statistic ever could.  It is tough because it makes a very clear demand of us; it imposes a dire reality so incredible and so fearsome that the sinful human mind often has but one recourse: to find any excuse to minimize that demand or simply ignore it entirely.  It is for that reason I bring out a Keven you may not have seen much before.  Today I am not the History Teacher or the Campfire Storyteller.  Today, I am Keven the Mystic.

                Keven the Mystic doesn’t really hide himself.  He’s really always been there.  Keven the Mystic is a gentleman you see, he doesn’t like to impose or cause a stir.  Indeed, in our own very secular world Keven the Mystic tends to upset people.  God has always been close to me, akin to an ever-present watchfulness, and my service to Him has led me on many an unexpected and uncomfortable adventure.  As many before me in the mystical tradition, I admit I have had premonitions of the future, dreams that would tell me of events and experiences days before they would happen.  I also see the responses to my prayers in the mundane workings of the world around me, and believe it or not, I have also performed an exorcism or two.  These things don’t make me special or an authority in and of themselves; they are merely a part of who I am and how I see the world.  It would be many years ago now, I was in the middle of my seminary career and working as a nighttime security guard for a medical device plant in nearby Plymouth.  It was a boring job, but the people were nice enough.  The other security guard on shift was a Muslim, and his family was from Somalia.  We would talk about the Koran a lot because that’s obviously what interested him, and I of course took the opportunity not only to learn about his faith but also share mine.  Every day, however, he would try to convert me away from Christianity and what was funny about it was that he used the exact same arguments and evangelistic techniques the Baptists used to try to convert me away from Lutheranism at Bethel.  I can’t tell you how hard it was for me not to smile.

                As time went on, however, the building we guarded began to have…well, certain things happen.   At first the cleaners would come out of areas with a very haunted expressions, and eventually they would demand to be transferred or they would just quit.  Then the murmurings and rumors would begin to circulate until at last one of the workers at the factory asked me in a very hushed tone, “Keven…is this building…I mean…have you seen…”  “Is the building haunted?” I replied, finishing the question they were too afraid to even ask.  I dismissed it, telling them that quite honestly while we had gotten strange reports, neither I nor my partner had experienced anything out of the ordinary.  They smiled that awkward, unsure little smile you get when you want to be assured that what the person is saying is true, but somewhere down deep you still aren’t convinced.  Well, then my partner and I did have an experience.  He quit that very night in fact and I never saw him again.  Now, for those of us who have had mystic experiences, one of the first things you have to contend with is that there is never going to be enough proof to make people believe you.  Rampant fear, distortion of the senses, predisposition toward belief, all these things you can throw at the situation and walk away thinking the people having those experiences are just crazy.  But the fact is I graduated college just two courses shy of double-majoring in psychology and Legal Studies.  I am aware of what clinical hallucinations look like, and none of us in that building fit the bill.  I graduated law school with my Juris Doctorate, I know what it takes to be declared legally insane and I know that people who have bought supposed haunted houses have sued the previous owner for damages and have won.  I also have graduated seminary, and am very much a believer when our ancestors tell us through our Scriptures that the Physical and Spiritual are not as separated as we like to think they are.

                Now, I am not here to regale you with ghost stories nor am I here to convince you of bogeymen.  As a theologian and a minister it is clear that such things are at best lesser matters over which the faithful can and should disagree.  I told you that story, that experience, to prime you for another one.  And if that story made your chest tighten, if you found yourself holding your breath and your heart racing just a tiny bit, believe me when I say to you “You haven’t seen anything, yet.”

                While that story that I just told was certainly one mystical experience of mine, it certainly was not the first.  My first mystical experience was in my first year of law school, of all places.  I’d done a lot to get there.  I got good grades in college.  My family was successful, the family business was successful.  My father and his brothers took a small dirt-moving company in rural Texas to a business that built roads and bridges, that laid foundations for great buildings in several of the southern states.  My father worked hard, my family was happy, and we wanted for nothing.  Indeed, my graduation present had been a brand new 1997 Ford F-150 extended cab.  Everything was looking fabulous and I was on track to be one of the youngest attorneys on record. 

                It was a crisp fall evening, and I had just gotten out of one of our Intervarsity club meetings at Hamline.  I was a good little Lutheran, probably a little too close to becoming a 5 point Calvinist at the time, but that is neither here nor there.  The autumn leaves were falling off the trees, caught by a quick breeze and carried off to who knows where.  The street was strangely dark that night, the lamps only illuminating so much despite the moon being full.  My mind was afire there on that sidewalk, and I excitedly explored new ideas and thoughts brought on by that Intervarsity experience.  I don’t really remember what I was thinking that night, but I do remember when God interrupted it.  For whatever reason, whatever my train of thought was, it shifted, and this idea suddenly came into my head.  “If you could live a bad life so another could have a good one, would you?”  I shook my head as a man suddenly coming out of dream.  It was an odd idea, and I tried to dismiss it as I kept walking on that lonely street.  The idea wouldn’t leave, though.  “You have had a good life up to now.  You have money, family, and a bright career ahead of you.  If it were possible, would you trade all that so someone else could have a good life instead of you.”  And then I stopped.  And when I stopped I had actual words enter my mind, not loud but definitely not from me.  They said, “Keven, would you really?”  I thought about it deeply for a minute or two, and then, in my heart of hearts, I answered, “Yes.  Yes, I would.”

                To say that the rest of that year was…horrible, would be an understatement.  Indeed, what happened would continue on for the next several.  Almost immediately after that moment my parent’s marriage fell apart.  My Father found a mistress, the business failed and was sued into bankruptcy.  We lost the house and I lost my mother to pain pills.  My brother…moved away.  All we knew living up here was that Kent had dropped out of flight mechanics school and someone else was suddenly living in his home.  Under no circumstances would he tell us where my brother was, and neither was he very forthcoming about who he was or really even why he was there.  The police were sent more than once, but with absolutely no success.  We really thought he was dead.  Law School, of course, was nothing less than an absolute hell.  The teachers there lie to you about how to get good grades, and with all the family issues going on, I ended up graduating late.  Even after graduation it would take me two years to be able to even take the bar exam.  I passed it but the Minnesota Bar had grave concerns about my family’s debts.  I got my rejection letter from the Bar a week after I had been fired from my security job – over Christmas.

                I was unemployed for six months.  To make sure my father wasn’t homeless, my wife and I took him in, but I had no idea how manipulative that man was, and he damned near almost cost me my marriage.  One night, I tried to sleep but couldn’t.  Alone with my thoughts like that fall evening so many years ago, my mind poured over every horror I’d been through, every trauma.  Unemployed, my own Father trying to ruin my family, and my son Brendan … we couldn’t even afford diapers for him.  All these became a waking nightmare there in the dead of that night, and finally, remembering that conversation I had with God on that lonely little sidewalk near Hamline, I cried up to heaven, “Please God, no more!”  and then I threw my arms up, like an abused step-child expecting to be hit.  I’m ashamed of it now, but that’s what I did.

                And I wasn’t hit.  Indeed, just the opposite.  A few days later, one of my resumes finally came through.  I got a well paying job on the spot.  It wasn’t going to last forever, but it got us on our feet.  We paid debts, kicked my father out, and moved someplace far more conducive to raising a family.  There was still years and years of hard work ahead of us, but we got there, and the nightmare was over.  It was finally over.

                When I began this sermon, I told you this text was by far the most difficult lesson for a Christian to learn, so difficult I see even other preachers try to avoid talking about it.  I see pastors with 6 figure incomes, new cars, and nice houses; Christian attorneys, people who by now who are partners in law firms, and they both say them say thing.  “Jesus didn’t really mean all your possessions” “He’s not that serious about this discipleship stuff.”  and when they do I have to try to hold back a smile.  I wish God had just taken my money.  Believe me now when I tell you, Jesus is very serious about this discipleship stuff.   When Jesus is telling his audience that they must hate their families, that they must abandon all that they possess and take up their own personal cross, he is not saying Christianity is a one hour a week commitment.  He makes no bones about the cost of following him and he is quite clear about the pricetag: it will cost you everything.  In your service to him you will be broken and remade, you will have what you hold dearest ripped away from you and you will give it up gladly.  You know you are owed nothing.   

                And as a Christian, you will give it up.  You will learn to be ever more mindful about what you value more than God and you will take steps to remove it.  You will wake up every day, painfully aware of everything that will go wrong and that you will remain powerless to affect any of it.  It is not because God is angry with us or that God hates us, or that God wants this life for us as his children.  Rather we come to the mature knowledge that in a world where sex trafficking and slavery have officially reached all time highs, where children are homeless and starving in rich industrialized countries, and where murder, corruption and rape run rampant, we come to solemn and sober realization that God has higher priorities than making sure I have an enjoyable day, an enjoyable week, or even an enjoyable life.  And because this is the world we find ourselves in, a world so completely devoid of even the most passing resemblance of compassion and justice, as a disciple of Jesus you become all too aware that if God takes something from you it is not for no reason.  You will not only give up what you claim, you will do so gladly, for after living in such a world of pain how can you not give the Maker what He needs to fix it? 

                The reality is we as Christians do give everything to God knowing full well God gives most of it back, and though the day will be far beyond our ability to handle, God will sustain us, and somehow we will make it through to see tomorrow.  But make no mistake, Jesus is not asking for our family or our things, he is asking for our Gethsemane.  He is asking in what circumstances will we be shaken, in what circumstances will we be abandoned and betrayed, so overcome with fear that we too will be found sweating blood.  And in that moment, Jesus asks us do we love God enough to trust Him, no matter the outcome?

                And so, in conclusion, as your pastor, I must ask, “How serious are you about this Christianity thing?”  Because the Church does not fail because of lack of churchgoers, it fails fail due to lack of Christians.  Amen and Amen.                    

A Matter of Heart...

          What is this?  Is this Church?  Why isn’t everybody in pews?  Where’s the organ, the chancil, and the altar?  What about the sanctuary and all those other hard to remember terms they don’t teach in seminary?  And what about those funny guys in the long dresses?  How can this be worship?  How can this be Church?

                Well, sometimes things are not always what they seem, and just because it isn’t what we are used to, doesn’t mean it isn’t just as true.  But mistaking something for its trappings, getting fooled by the outside and not looking within is something we as humans will always struggle with.  We don’t like change, we don’t like it when differences crop up into our lives.  Between bills, work, family, and all the drama that gets put into that mix we like things to stay the same, we like things the way we are used to, the way we can handle them.  Humanity’s been like that since Adam and the fall, and it was no different for people living in Jesus’ time as it is today.

                Most people don’t really appreciate how different Jesus’ ministry was, how so very radical  compared to what was going on at the time.  I want you to imagine yourselves as Israelites living in Palestine, as 1^st century Jews living within walking distance of the Holy City. The temple and the synagogue are the biggest contact points of your faith, the places where you fully embraced your identity as Jews.  The synagogue was where you learned about your ancestral religion: Your learned what to eat, what to wear, and what to do.  The temple, however, was where you most publicly proclaimed your identity and where you performed the most important rites as an Israelite.  Here the Day of Atonement was performed, here the sacrifices and the various offerings were made to absolve all Israel of her sins.  Here was where you were supposed to meet God.

                But not all of your fellow Jews are happy with things the way they are, indeed the strife with your countrymen is almost equal to the strife you feel with your Roman conquerors.  In the first century there are four major divisions of the Jewish faith that you must contend with, all quite different from one another.  There were the Sadducees, the ruling class of Israel.  Surprisingly secular believers, they do not believe in angels or spirits nor do they really believe in an afterlife.  They pick and choose from their Bible, taking the verses they like and conveniently excluding what they don’t.  Only the first five books of Moses were Scripture to them, you see.  Cutting out ¾ of your book means cutting ¾ of your responsibility and where life would be at odds with the Prophets, the Prophets could simply be discarded.  Still, while deeply flawed by power and compromised by convenience, it must be noted that these are the only Jews among your people who are not racist, that do not believe Gentiles are bad simply because they are gentiles and by extension they do not believe Jews are good only because they are Jewish.

In addition to the Sadducees, however, there are the Pharisees and they are not so far from our evangelical movement.  They are a Scripture driven movement, a missionary movement, and a grass roots association interested in keeping the Scriptures central in the daily lives of their fellow Israelites.  No one person leads it, no organization heads it, rather it is rallied by its charismatic preachers who often decried their government and were quick to advocate war against foreign powers.  Their adherence to the whole of Scripture often makes them legalistic, obeying the bare words on the page but caring little for the spirit in which those words were given, but at the same time you will be hard pressed to find a Jew more openly living their faith or more interested in relieving the suffering of their people than this group.  

After the Pharisees are the Essenes, Puritans and End Time Believers.  They believe most of the country has fallen into horrible sin, so they do not mix with the common Israelite, seeing them as too tainted, too unclean for Holy Living.  They have removed themselves from society and live in the desert far away from the false government and the false religion that have taken on God’s name.  When God comes to judge their nation, it is their intention to be “Left Behind”, looking forward to the destruction of the temple and the coming of a great teacher.

There are also the Zealots, a group of Jews who feel that the only response to an unclean and gentile ridden government is its violent overthrow.  They were inspired by the Maccabees, the Jewish generals who threw off gentile oppression and foreign entanglements by the sword.  These are your constitution party members, the liberty lovers and the militiamen seeking to return their society to its perceived origins.  They are believers in their weapons and are fervent in their opposition to their government, but they are also the Jews most willing to give their lives in defense of their friends.

But finally, there are the people like you and me.  People who are somewhere in the middle, perhaps seeing one side or another but in all honesty just trying to eek out an existence that both gives credence to your people and shows faithfulness to your God.  You know the Temple isn’t perfect, you know the flaws of your leaders, and you know the dangers of losing your way of life, but it’s also all you’ve got to work with.  And so you work, you live, and you wait.  You endure the times and raise a family, doing your best with what you have…that is until someone comes along and shows you a better way.

And that someone comes…a man, a lowly carpenter’s son, rumored to be of illegitimate birth.  He is a rabbi, but he is not like the other rabbis.  He has no education, no formal training.  He didn’t apprentice himself to another teacher like the others did, he simply took up the mantle one day and, shockingly, people listened.  But people did more than listen, they followed.  They followed by the thousands.  And when this rabbi took disciples, he didn’t take the cream of the religious crop.  He didn’t go to the Scriptoriums, the religious schools for their best students, he took everybody.  He took fishermen, tax collectors, Zealots!  He even taught women!  And what did this man teach?  He taught that the root of all evil was neither Sadducee nor gentile, but the love of money and power and any Jew was quite susceptible.  He taught that gentiles were not an enemy of the religion or the state and they were indeed capable of great faith.  He taught the Temple was about to be judged and replaced with nothing, that the new holy community could be comprised with just two people without any buildings or sacrifices for sins.  He taught that there are no unclean foods and that working on the Sabbath is not necessarily against the law if those works are for good.  He taught that the Scriptures are Holy and Good, but they need filling to be complete.  But more than any of that, in a land of schisms and disagreements, in a land more and more given to violence this rabbi taught that Peace was the answer, that love for neighbor was the solution, that simple faith in God even unto death was the way.

                Now, all of you may be wondering, what in the name of the Holy of Holies does this have to with our gospel text?  Well, I’ll tell you.  As a Jew or even a Gentile in the first century the question arises, indeed begs to be asked how then is this Jesus still a Jew?  How can this sect of Christians still consider themselves part of Judaism when they will eat any food, have no use for temple or sacrifice, are willing to include gentiles into the people of God, and understand their Hebrew Scriptures as now secondary to the message of the gospel?  Yes, this Jesus might be important, indeed he might be the most important man who ever lived, but how can Christianity be thought of as having Jewish roots?

                And the answer is that appearances can be deceiving.  What looks one way can in fact be another and THAT is a theme that Luke deeply addresses in his gospel.  Luke begins his tale as a Gentile would.  Important people, people of divine importance, are often heralded before-hand.  So important is this Jesus, however, that even Jesus’ herald John is heralded beforehand.  Yes, this all occurred as a gentile would think fit, but these heralds are not gentile, they are Jewish.  Jesus and John are born to Jewish parents.  John’s father is a Jewish priest and Jesus’ parents have him circumcised and presented at the Temple according to Jewish law.  The inherent Jewishness of the Jesus story is hammered home time and time again and the relevance of the Jewish scriptures and their filled-full-ment in Jesus is not some outlying afterthought or a tangential footnote, but is central to the fulfillment of God’s promises to his people.  Indeed, where the story seems least Jewish, it in fact shows quite the opposite.  Joseph and Mary are recorded in Luke as obeying the Roman census.  Most jews rebelled at every census, but Joseph and Mary did not.  Their scriptures told them to obey the gentile king, to pray for them and indeed intercede for them while under their rule.  The Prophets proclaimed this, and Mordecai in Ruth lived this, even to the point of seeking royal permission to defend themselves against Haman and their enemies.  Joseph and Mary were not less Jewish for obeying Caesar; they were in fact more Jewish than all the rest of their countrymen.  And so it is for this part of the story, Jesus having just proclaimed the faith of a centurion now goes into Nain and raises a widow’s son, just like Elijah the Jewish Prophet did so many centuries before.  But unlike Elijah, who raised a gentile widow’s son, Jesus goes to the Jews and returns a Jewish widow’s only son back to her.  God has indeed returned to bless his people.  They were not left out.

                So yes, things changed.  The trappings of the past, the trap-things, the outside appearances that ensnared, yes they were discarded but the heart was no less true to its heritage.  God is not an exclusive God.  Claiming the Gentiles did not mean dismissing the Jews, and the blessings of the future in fact did not include the cursing of the past.  Both were upheld and one did not happen at the expense of the other.  So it is with us.  So often we look at the future and we see great cataclysmic change.  We look at our society and our children. We say “look how different it’s all going to be”…except it’s not.  2000 years from now we will still be silly, ridiculous humans in need of Jesus, but I will not lie to you, my friends, things will look different.  We will have a different president, we will live in a different world.  Our children will grow, they will not be exactly like us and our church will look very different in the years to come.  It’s only looks.  God is the God of the old and the new, and he gives the same heart to them both if we ask Him.  So yes, things will change, just not really.  And we can take heart in that.