Further Travels Along the Way

In June of 2010 I began working as the regular supply pastor at a Presbyterian church (PCUSA affiliated) in Northwest Indiana.  At the time, it seemed like somewhat of a cruel irony since I had left the PCUSA to become UCC after meeting and marrying my wife which put me at odds with PCUSA polity.  Nevertheless, this church seemed like the place God was directing me so I tried to stay open to where my faith journey and calling was leading. 

Among my first hurdles were those of ethics and transparency.  I am gay and my wife and daughter would likely come with me to church.  The exiting interim minister had known me for years and knew about my sexuality but I didn’t think she outted me to the church.  So, I had to make a decision.

How was I going to answer the questions?  Would I just go ahead and come out?  What was the right thing to do so that I had integrity while not opening my family to undue scrutiny?  Furthermore, I didn’t want to bring to the church additional turmoil in the midst of a time that was already fragile.

Very quickly I decided to answer any questions from congregants honestly but not bring up the fact that I’m gay.  I advised my family to do the same.  All the same, we did not necessarily go about drawing attention to ourselves in that way.  My reasoning for this choice was three fold.  First, I personally have borne much pain as some of my Christian sisters and brothers have hurled stones of hatred and fear at me over the years.  It’s been a tough journey that I still weep over from time to time.  Second, as a family, we did not have a need to be supported in that faith community so our transparency was not necessary for our well-being.  Likewise, we did not need the pain that would come with a negative outcome.  Third, and most importantly, I believed my time with them would be short and deemed the painful transitions of the church and the existing sorrow of its members to be more important to address than introducing an additional issue that would only serve to distract them from what they actually needed.  They had already been though too much to have someone “dump” an extra issue on them.  They deserved to grieve and grow through their existing difficulties before dealing with one more thing. 

With all that in mind I moved forward and what I thought was going to be a “few preaching gigs” turned into more and ultimately lasted 20 months before they called a full time pastor.

I didn’t realize it would happen but I quickly fell in love with the people at that church.  I saw in them such love for one another and a deep faith.  They could not have endured the kind of pain they had without it.  You see, in the past 10 years they had lost a much beloved pastor and then had a series of short lived calls and interims that introduced various conflicts and near scandals (the reasons for this are so complicated I will not even dare deal with it in this writing because I can never do their experience justice).  In the face of all this strife, the church and its programs survived... they even thrived in some ways.  It was easy to for me to admire and even love them.

It seemed that they loved me too.  They liked my preaching style of balancing teaching with practical ways of living faithfully.  They appreciated my reluctance to make grand claims on behalf of God in favor of journeying together.  Most of all, they loved the way I loved them.  For a group of people who had felt rejected and shat upon, they just wanted so badly to know that it wasn’t their fault and that they were still loved by God... and a pastor.  I could give them that.

One of my early sermons at the church was entitled “Along the Way” and was based upon Psalm 107:1-9, 43.  In it I said, “this is a passage about life happening.  Life includes the joyous and the tragic and all that lies in between.  Not all these events happen because of God but God is in the midst of them and still with us after them.  Our job is to be open to God’s help.  Our job is to keep journeying.  Our job is to share in the journey with others around us.  And we do this with hope knowing God is with us all along the way.”

“Along the way” became a phrase that I would utter many many more times during my service at that church.  It became my mantra to them as I sought to illuminate God’s presence and work in their midst.  It also became a mantra to myself as I experienced a home and sense of calling like I had not previously had or expected.

In my time there, I never did out myself from the pulpit even though I uplifted the justices issues associated with gender and sexuality.  I kept my emphasis on what they needed most.  Even as my sexuality became known to many in the congregation, what people stayed focused upon was what we had in common as people of faith trying to find our way forward.  With all the talk in our culture about what is wrong with the church, let me tell you that what is right was the people of that church staying focused on loving one another and honoring faith. 

Don’t get me wrong.  It wasn’t always easy.  I know for a fact, my sexuality became a catalyst for heated discussion amongst the Pastor Nominating Committee.  Also, I had many conversations with congregants who were unaware of my sexuality as they made their opinions known about Presbyterian polity, theology, and sexuality.  They said things that were insensitive and at times even hateful.  Yet, my response was always to broaden our understanding of love and keep us focused upon what God is doing and calling us to.

In the months since my time ended at that church, I’ve had time to reflect on what this journey meant and how it touched me in ways I never imagined.  I’ve come to believe even more in the mantra of God with us “along the way” because of the relationships that my family and I have formed with the people of that church.  Our lives are forever changed and better because of them.  Furthermore, the church’s constant affirmation of God’s gifts in me and my time with them served to heal old wounds that I thought would always be festering.  Honestly, I rarely know where God is leading me but I can say without a shadow of a doubt that God has been, is, and will be with us all along the way.  Amen.

Building The Kingdom

Ordinary 27A – Sermon based upon Psalm 19 and Matthew 21:33-46

Good morning.  It’s good to be with you on this World Communion Sunday.  It’s a special day when we pause to recognize in gratitude all the different peoples and cultures in which Christianity and the fellowship of the table thrive.  So you might be wondering what today’s scripture message does to uphold that notion because on the surface, it just doesn’t seem to fit.

I mean here we have this story of gang like violence where the workers of a vineyard scheme against the owner, selfishly claim their own superiority, and even brutally kill the owner’s servants and son.  So what is up with this passage that it shows up in the lectionary on World Communion Sunday? 

This passage is one of those parables that stands out from Jesus’ usual teaching parables.  This parable does not use story telling to reveal something of the nature of God, as do so many others parables. One of the reasons is that rather than being aimed at the every day folks of faith, this one is aimed at the religious leaders.  So this parable that seems to have been misnamed “the parable of the wicked tenants" really should be something else. The tenants, of course, play a major role, because Jesus is pointing to the way the Pharisees have mistaken their leadership over Israel for outright ownership of Israel.  But the real focus of the parable is to clarify who Jesus is.

Now when I started writing this sermon, I thought I’d spend a lot of time talking about the history of what all the symbols mean and what it’s getting at but I’m going to do something else instead.  So, I’m going to give as quick an overview of the historical and symbolic significance and meaning as I can.  And then I’m going to move forward to something more practical.  But if you feel like you missed out on some of the nitty gritty of deciphering this passage, just ask me later and we can discuss it for hours.

So we have this cast of characters.  The tenants represent the religious leaders who are more concerned with their own wealth and status.  They want to “inherit” is rightfully Jesus’.  They are responsible for pointing Israel to God, yet they have instead pointed her to themselves. The indictment, then, is not against the people Israel per se, or even against the temple "institution," but rather against God's appointed leaders.  The slaves symbolize prophets sent by God to call the leaders back to God’s purposes.  The son represents Jesus, the son of God.  And the owner represents God. 

Well, the tenants kill the slaves and the son in an attempt to claim the inheritance from the owner.  But then the owner comes and restores the son that was previously cast off… killed.  And all of this points to how amazing the works of God are.

Who is Jesus according to this parable? He is the Son who has come to reclaim what rightfully belongs to his Father. He is the Son whose mission is violently rejected by the Father's own tenants. He is the Son whose rejection is vindicated by the Father. And he is the Son whose vindication prompts the final judgment of the unfaithful tenants.

In coming to reclaim what rightly belongs to his Father, the Son sets out to restore the world to its divinely created order. One need only look at Jesus' ministry to see what this looks like: the sick are made well, sinners are restored, and God is praised.  In short, Jesus brings wholeness to a broken world, providing glimpses into what he elsewhere calls "the kingdom of heaven."

So that is the somewhat quick overview of this passage.  But there’s a part I want to zero in on.  Verse 40 reads, “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?"

That’s really the million-dollar question, isn’t it? What will he do to them? What will the one in charge do to those who have blatantly, flagrantly disobeyed and violated their roles?  They’ve even committed murder.

Well, listeners said the owner should kill them all and start fresh.  But let’s go back to what all this symbolizes.  Is that what God did to the Jewish leaders?  Is that what God does to religious leaders today that go awry?  Is that how God deals with any of us in our failings? 

No it is not.  Jesus may have been pointing to himself as the savior but he was also pointing to a God that never gives up on God’s people.  This parable tells us that the son who has been killed… you know, Jesus will be restored and become the cornerstone, holding all of this together. 

God’s work is not that of smiting and smacking us down when we fail.  God’s work is that of restoring and reconciling us.  God raised up his son and restored him for the goodness and healing of creation. 

This stands in stark contrast to persons of faith in that time and still today who act with self serving intentions.  They call for judgment of those around them.  They use the failings of others to feel superior while ignoring the log in their own eye. They see control and conquest rather than reconciliation and healing.

But before we get too carried away with all these “they” do this and “they” do that’s, we need to be humble enough to see that sometimes we all fall into that kind of judgmental thinking.  We get focused on our particular ways of doing things and turn those into our standards instead of using God’s measuring stick of love and mercy.

And I think that is the real point of this parable today.  Jesus was talking to the Pharisees but if Jesus told us this parable today, and we replied with “kill the tenants,” I hope we would be able to see that the message of Jesus being a conduit for restoring the kingdom through peaceful means instead of vengeful ones would sink into our hearts and minds.  I hope we could see God’s interest in making creation whole rather than clear cutting the land.  And I hope we can receive the healing of that part in us that calls for retaliation so that we can be co-creators with God in building the Kingdom.

So here we are.  It’s World Communion Sunday where we celebrate the way God has reached out with wide arms to the world.  We collect the Peacemaking offering that goes to programs both near and far that work to be beacons of God’s peace, love, and mercy.  And even if those things weren’t going on, we ourselves need a good bit of God’s love and mercy rather than the judgment and shame we so often heap upon ourselves and one another. 

Sisters and brothers, we’ve gone all the way from a bizarre parable of gang like violence to God’s message that healing comes through the peaceful and loving reconciliation through Christ.  That’s one wild journey.  But I think it mirrors our own experience.  We have no trouble imaging the violence but we have trouble making the leap to peaceful healing.  But that is the point. We don’t have to make the jump.  Christ made the leap for us.  And thanks be to God for that. 

Our charge is to be humble and open to God’s work of healing and reconciliation. May we be every willing to be part of the Kingdom God is building with us.  Amen.