Sermon: Managing conflict the Christian way (Sept. 10, 2017)

Pentecost 14A

September 10, 2017

Matthew 18:15-20

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            My little Grace loves her baby brother very much and likes to spend time with him. But sometimes, like all little brothers, he annoys her – usually by either holding onto a corner of her blankie, or by crawling up on her while she is trying to enjoy some lap time with one of her parents. These occurrences usually result in Grace swatting at him, saying, “No, Isaac!” This is 2-year-old conflict management.

Getting along is hard.

            Give them a few years and it might be more like what I witnessed at their daycare last week. Four school-age kids were playing on the playground, but when I walked out, I saw one of them standing on one side of the yard, pouting in the general direction of the other three, who stood staring her down from the play structure. I asked what was going on, and so began a flood of, “She said… they said… she stole the chalk… they were mean…” etc. I suggested everyone owed someone else an apology, and they stared at me blankly. I asked if everyone could think of one thing they had done that might have hurt someone else’s feelings, and they resorted once again to telling me what the offending party had done. This is elementary age conflict management.

            Surely by the time we get to be adults, we are better at this, right? And definitely we in the church, in a place that gathers around the promise of love and forgiveness – we have found a way to be in a community without conflict, right? Ah, not so. Anyone who has been around the church – or any community, really – knows that conflict is very much a part of being in any community. For all of the gifts that community and relationship have to offer us, it is very hard work, and no one is immune to conflict: not couples who are madly in love, not best friends, not extended families, and no, not even the church. We may not swat at each other and say, “No!” but we still lash out at each other, and often in more painful ways. We may not ostracize each other from the play structure or steal each other’s sidewalk chalk, but we ostracize each other and steal each other’s reputations by gossiping about each other, rather than confronting issues head on, and we point fingers rather than noticing our own part in the brokenness. Or sometimes, like my sweet, affable Isaac, we just go along our way, ignoring conflicts, until finally one small thing sets us off, and we can’t take it anymore and start screaming. Conflict management may change form as we grow in years and maturity, but it is always difficult.

            That is why Jesus offers us this bit of instruction on how to manage the conflicts that arise within the beloved community of the church. The first thing to notice here, is just that Jesus felt the need to say this at all. Because Jesus knows being a part of a church community does not immunize us from conflict. When we gather in community, it is not a matter of if, but when challenges arise. What makes the church unique is not whether there is conflict, but rather, how it is handled when there is.

            So Jesus’ first instruction is pretty simple: tell the person about it, right to their face. If someone wrongs you, “sins against you,” he says, tell them. In other words, don’t tell someone else about it. Don’t start the gossip chain. Don’t unload your anxiety about a situation onto someone who doesn’t need to be involved: go right to the source. And don’t do it passive aggressively, or active aggressively for that matter! Be direct, but be kind, be humble – and be willing to recognize your own role in the brokenness. Don’t assume you know the whole story – be willing to listen to the other person, and their particular pain, too. Usually difficult behavior comes out of some sort of brokenness that the offender is experiencing. I heard a sort of funny word for this this week: don’t confront them, but “care-front” them. Bring sandwiches, and speak to each other with care and compassion. This is the stuff of relationship building. It is confronting someone who has wronged you with the understanding that both parties are in bondage to sin and cannot free themselves, and both need daily forgiveness. If you are able to hear each other and recognize your mutual pain, Jesus says, you will have regained that relationship.

            Sometimes, though, even a good sandwich and all the best hopes and intentions in the world don’t result in a good conversation. So Jesus offers another suggestion: bring in a neutral third party. If misunderstanding and inadequate communication is still a problem, ask someone to help you understand each other. This is the role of community, is it not? To care for one another, to help each be our best selves, to hold each other accountable. Again, helping others to communicate with one another lovingly, seeking to understand each other’s mutual brokenness, is hard work – how much easier it would be just to take sides! – but it is the work that the church is called to.

            Yet even this does not always work. Jesus’ next suggestion really ups the ante: bring it to the whole church. Let everyone who has pledged to follow Jesus listen with care to those involved, surrounding them in love and compassion, even while striving to hold everyone accountable.

            And sometimes, even this won’t work. Jesus’ next word sounds at first very harsh: “if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let that one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” Our first thought is: hold on, Jesus, let that one be like the enemy? Like these despised members of society? Does he mean we should kick them out of the community? But that doesn’t sound like Jesus!

            Ah, and you see, that’s the key. That doesn’t sound like Jesus. Because how does Jesus treat tax collectors? He welcomes them and eats with them! Matthew himself, the author of this gospel, was a tax collector! How does Jesus treat Gentiles? He heals them and loves them and welcomes them! Remember the story we heard a couple weeks ago about the Canaanite woman who wanted a few crumbs from the table, and wanted her daughter to be healed? Jesus said her faith was great, and healed her daughter! When Jesus invites us to treat someone with whom we are struggling to be in relationship like a tax collector or a Gentile, he is inviting us to treat these outsiders like he does: with the same love and compassion as you would anyone else in the community. In fact, perhaps even with more, because Jesus is always one to reach beyond boundaries – geographical, religious, and emotional – to the one who is vulnerable and in need.

            In this way, Jesus’ advice to the church in today’s reading is not meant to be a legalistic formula for dealing with church conflict. Really, his advice is simpler than that: love one another. Love one another with all that you have, and try everything you can to be in loving relationship with one another. Reach out. Listen. Surround the person with loving community. When you’ve tried everything, still never stop loving them with the love of Christ.

            That’s a pretty tall order. It is only possible because of this last line in our text today: “Where two or three are gathered in my name,” Jesus says, “I am there among you.” We’ve heard this line so many times before, but seeing it here, in its context, makes all the difference. Jesus makes this promise right on the tails of talking about the challenges and requirements of living in Christian community – he makes it because he knows how difficult community can be. Rewarding, yes, and life-giving, and healing, but also a whole lot of work, and very trying at times. And so he promises: I am with you in that important work. When you strive for love, strive for relationship, strive for compassion and building up and growth – I am with you. When your humanity and brokenness rubs each other the wrong way – I am with you. When you are challenged and discouraged by each other – I am with you. Whenever you are together in my name – I am with you. And I will not leave you alone.

            This strikes me as especially important at this time, as the kids head back to school, and the Sunday School starts up again, and the program year, and all of the fall activities that are a lot of fun, but have the potential to suck us dry and make us feel stressed and strung out. For all the gifts of all these things starting up again, when we are stressed and overworked we are all that much more susceptible to snapping at each other. As we interact with more people, meet new people, find ourselves in new communities… these words from Jesus are even more important to remember: not only to do everything in our power to build loving, healing relationships with one another, and to reach out especially to those marginalized and vulnerable, but to remember that in all we do together in Jesus’ name, we do it also with Jesus’ presence, and with the promise of his own self-giving love, his grace, and his joy.

            Let us pray… God of community, you call us into loving, compassionate, forgiving relationships with one another. Give us the wisdom to build these relationships, to nurture them and help them grow, and when we struggle, remind us that you are there with us, loving us and forgiving us, as we continue to strive to live your loving way in the world. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Two years of Grace

September 5, 2017

My dear Birthday Girl!

Happy birthday! Or as you have been saying all weekend, “Happy to you!” What a day (weekend!) of joy, as we have been celebrating all the wonderfulness that is you!!

The other night, your dad and I fell asleep talking about all the things we love about you. Really, there are too many to name. But in this letter, I will try to tell you a few of them.

We love that you love to read. We use books to bribe you sometimes, or to pull you out of a tantrum, because you always, always want to read. You crawl into a lap (even if Isaac is already occupying said lap) and happily sit through an entire story. It’s really amazing, that you have that kind of attention span. You will sit and listen to the whole thing, engaging in it all along the way. You point out things you see in the pictures. You respond when we ask you about the pictures. If we say, “Can you find a bird?” you will look carefully until you find it, then point to it, saying, “This.” At night, you insist on taking whatever bedtime story we read you with you into bed. After we turn out the light, you sit in bed and re-read it, practicing. We catch snippets, and sure enough you know some of the words, and mimic our inflection! You’re really quite amazing, my dear.

Oo-oo-ah-ah's bedtime

We love that you love to sing. You certainly have your favorite songs – “E-I-O” (Old McDonald) and “Wow wow wow” (The Wheels on the Bus) are regular requests. But you also learn new songs quickly. Row Row Row Your Boat is a new favorite, Baa Baa Black Sheep, ABCs, Itsy Bitsy Spider, Open-Shut Them, and Happy Birthday are all songs you have sung on your own, and there are many others you sing with me. You are very good at hand motions, and eager to copy them. But love, nothing is sweeter than your little voice, singing a song. We especially love it when you make up songs to sing to your babies.

We love that you love your babies and your blankies (aka “ladies”). Your current favorite lovies are Pink Lady (the largest and most unwieldy blankie of them all, of course) and “Oo-oo-ah-ah,” your blue monkey. You are a very good mommy to your babies, especially Oo-oo-ah-ah. You change her diaper, or ask me to do it (and I have to tell you, your monkey poops a LOT – seems like she is pooping all the time!), you strap her into the carseat and the stroller, you set her in the high chair and put a bib on her, you give her food to eat. The other day, you took her through the entire bedtime routine: dressed her in your pajamas, fed her a bottle, read her a book, rocked and sang to her, put her in your crib, patted her on the head, and closed the door as you left. Adorable.

We love that you’re a ham. (Runs in the family, I guess!) Whenever the camera comes out, you offer a cheesy smile and say, “Cheeeeeeeese!” We did not teach you this, so we’re not sure where it came from! You tell animated stories complete with hand motions and interesting inflection, even though we can’t understand three quarters of your words. You are a goofball, often trying to get us to laugh, but then cracking up yourself at your own antics. It’s delightful.

We love that you are a good big sister. You watch out for Isaac, making sure he has what he

needs. (Just this evening, you found all your blankies, and pulled Isaac’s aside and brought it to him.) You try to feed him. You play with him. He doesn’t even like to go to sleep unless you are in the room with him, and when we leave you up there together, the two of you chat and giggle for as much as an hour before you finally go to sleep. You are already thick as thieves, you two.

We love that you are trying so hard to talk. You totally get language – you understand pretty much everything, and try so hard to articulate what is in your head. You are getting closer and closer! You repeat everything, always practicing. Every day, your words are clearer, and you string more of them together. It is very exciting, and you look so satisfied when you successfully communicate something to us.

Grace loves to drive. Seriously, always asking to.

We love that you’re such a boss. You take care of business, kid. You have clear ideas of how things should be – for example, when we go for a walk, you dictate who will go in what stroller, who will walk, who will be carried, etc. You take care of all the babies. With you in charge, we know everything will be taken care of just as it should.

We love that you are so loving. For a kid who used to not like cuddling at all, you have changed your tune. You love to sit in laps. You willingly give hugs and kisses. You are quick with an “I love you,” or a hug around the knees. And each and every time, it melts our hearts. You are such a treasure, my sweet Grace. We love your smile, you goofiness, your tender care, your excitement over every discovery (or even things you long ago discovered – seeing them as if for the first time every day!), your determination, your creativity, your industriousness, your heart. You are every bit grace, our Grace Victoria!

                                                                                                Much love,

                                                                                                Mommy

Sermon: Denying ourselves for the sake of love (Sept. 3, 2017)

Pentecost 13A

September 3, 2017

Exodus 3:1-15

Romans 12:9-21

Matthew 16:21-28

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            This past week, a Facebook memory popped up from four years ago of Michael’s and my second fourth wedding anniversary. You may remember, we got married twice: once in California at the beginning of August, and then we did the ceremony again here so all of our East Coast friends – including you! – could be a part of it. It was an especially timely memory, because one of the scripture readings we had at our wedding was what we heard a moment ago from Romans. “Let love be genuine,” Paul writes. “Hate was is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints, extend hospitality to strangers.” I think it is very good advice for a newly married couple, which is why we chose it! But in the NRSV Bible translation we use, this is actually called, “Marks of a true Christian,” and that’s really true. These are all behaviors and efforts and traits of someone who not only follows Christ in word, but also in deed. In other words, if you call yourself a Christian, then these describe how you live your life.

            In fact, I think all of the things that follow – the ones I read just now and the whole list that was read earlier – could all be elaboration on that first statement: “let love be genuine.” The word Paul uses there means “sincere,” or, “love without hypocrisy.” In other words, don’t just talk to the talk, but walk the walk. Say you do these things, and then, actually do them.

This is really the heart and soul of faith, isn’t it? From the very beginning, God has always acted in love: creating the world, redeeming God’s people through Christ, and empowering the Church to service of the world. No one can deny that genuine love is a pretty big part of being a Christian, right?

            What’s sometimes tricky is knowing just how that genuine love should be enacted. Sometimes it is obvious – we see genuine love in kindness, and generosity, and compassion. We’ve seen a lot of that in Houston this week in the wake of Hurricane Harvey, as neighbors selflessly help neighbors, people open their homes to strangers in need of shelter, workers tirelessly save people’s lives around the city, and people around the country donate money and goods. We see it in our various ministries here: donations of food and other goods, the Christmas stocking project, and the like.

But sometimes love is less obvious – like the spouse of an alcoholic finally putting her foot down, and forbidding her beloved what he craves, or putting boundaries in place to keep your children safe, even if they scream and cry about it. What’s especially tricky is when love expressed for one person looks like lack of love for another – say, if someone with power is oppressing someone without power, and someone else comes to put a stop to it. The weaker party felt that as loving, but the powerful party probably didn’t. But see, love doesn’t always look like agreement or tolerance; sometimes it looks like putting a firm stop to abuse. You see, love can be complicated, and can look very different in different situations.

            So, as we try to sort all this out, what if we try to understand what genuine love looks like in light of our Gospel text today? Jesus says to his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” They are tough words – but no tougher than what Jesus himself does for us. He even says as much in John’s Gospel, telling them that there is no greater love than to put down your life for a friend. That is, to lose your life. So… if that is genuine love, what does that mean for us?

            Let me start by saying, I don’t think it means you have to literally leave everything dear to you behind, nor that you have to literally die. Though, I do think it means you have to be willing to do those things, if it is in service to the gospel. There are a few exceptional examples in history who have indeed died for the sake of making sure God’s love is known: Martin Luther King, Jr. and Dietrich Bonhoeffer are modern examples. But for those of us who are not called to be martyrs, what might it look like to lose our life?

            This past week I had the opportunity to stand with over 3000 faith leaders of various religions in Washington DC, on the anniversary of Martin Luther King’s March on Washington and his epic “I Have a Dream” speech. Together with all those people – black, white, brown, young, old, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Sikh – we joined our voices in support of the very things Dr. King addressed in that

Ministers March for Justice, Aug 28, 2017

speech: racial justice, economic justice, jobs, and healthcare. We prayed, we sang, and we marched, celebrating what we shared, finding joy and beauty in each other’s traditions, and doing what our faiths compelled us to do, which was to stand up for the marginalized and oppressed. Throughout the event, we heard from several dynamic speakers. One thing that someone said really resonated with me. He talked about how Jesus shows us that love is most genuinely expressed in sacrifice. Then he said, “So you’re here to march for justice. That’s great. What are you willing to sacrifice for justice? What will you give up so that all might have the justice they deserve?” It comes right back to Jesus’ statement today: if you want to be a disciple of Jesus, if you want to be a genuine Christian, then you’ve got to deny yourself. You’ve got to give up your life.

            Again, I want to be clear about what this does NOT mean. It doesn’t mean we deny the gifts God has given us – to the contrary, those gifts should be used for furthering the gospel! It does not necessarily mean we have to die prematurely.

But it does mean we may have to deny something about ourselves that has brought us safety and comfort, especially emotional safety and comfort. It does mean we have to ask about all of our decisions, “Who benefits from this decision?” and then if you are the beneficiary, to also ask, “Does this benefit to me mean someone else won’t get what they need?” and then perhaps to be willing to make a different decision that is in someone else’s best interest, rather than our own. (Remember, “deny yourself?”)

It does mean being willing to be wrong sometimes. Let me ask you something: Has anyone here ever had an argument with someone in which that person successfully changed your mind in the moment? Yeah, I didn’t think so! Because people don’t generally change their mind by being told, “You’re wrong about that.” And yet, I bet every one of us has, in fact, been wrong. Right? People’s minds can only be changed by two things: relationship, and self-reflection and repentance. And so, if we want to engage in the practice of denying ourselves, losing ourselves for the sake of the gospel, and repentance, a good start is to try building relationships with people who are affected differently by an issue than you are – a person of a different color, or religion, or socioeconomic status. If you can’t find a physical person, find reading material written by someone with a different experience, and learn first hand what their life is like.

I don’t know about you, but I am much more willing to admit I am wrong about something, if I have come to realization on my own, through study and self-reflection. And this process often results in healing, for me and for those around me. So one thing I have been trying to do, as I have considered how to find healing in this divided world, is try on my own to let my mind be changed about the issues that divide us – to seek out other opinions, especially from people I respect, and approach them with the intention of being open-minded and willing to change. I read and listen to things by people of color to better understand racism. I get my news from sources with both liberal and conservative bias. I listen to interviews and read blogs from people of an opposite opinion, and see if there is anything there with which I can resonate. And I can’t tell you how many times I have thought to myself, “Oh man, Johanna, you might have been wrong on this!” Though it is easier to admit this to myself, without having to admit it aloud to another person, especially a person I’m currently arguing with, it is also true that being wrong about something, especially something you believed deeply, can feel an awful lot like losing your life, because it requires giving up a viewpoint that has been central to who you are and how you view the world.

But isn’t that what the Christian life calls us to: a life of continual repentance? And don’t we believe that ours is a God who brings about transformation? Isn’t the Christian life one in which we regularly examine our hearts for ways we have fallen short of selflessly, sacrificially, and genuinely loving our neighbor, in which we name those things before God, and pray that we would be able to turn back toward Christ? A life in which we are grateful, again and again, to receive forgiveness? Because that forgiveness, we know, did not come easily for Christ. Christ indeed denied himself, took up his physical cross, and lost his life – so that we would be able to find our new life, a life that is free of the shackles of sin, free of the fear of death, free of all that would keep us from God’s love. It is because we have that new life, that we are able and empowered to deny ourselves and give up our own lives, all for the sake of sharing that life-giving love with those who desperately need it.

Let us pray… God of love, you have shown us what it means to love one another genuinely. Now give us the courage and humility to do it. Help us to see when we are misguided and help us to understand the plight of the other, so that we would be willing to deny ourselves and lose something important to us, for the sake of those in need. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Who is Jesus, and who is the Church? (Aug. 27, 2017)

Pentecost 12A

August 27, 2017

Matthew 16:13-20

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            “Who do people say that I am?” Jesus asked. “And who do you say that I am?” These questions have been in my head this week as I have continued to process the events in Charlottesville. There were many horrifying things about those events, but one of them for me was seeing white supremacists claiming that this was an expression of their Christian faith – their alleged faith in the same Jesus Christ that I proclaim! I heard a story this week about a former KKK member who said that when he made his commitment as a teenager, he slit his wrist and pledged covenant with the KKK and with Jesus Christ. In the same breath, he swore loyalty to two powers that are completely incompatible, at least in my understanding of who Jesus Christ is. “Who do people say that I am?” Jesus asks? Well, I don’t think I would be saying the same thing as those guys, yet we both claim faith in Christ! How do we reconcile that? How do we respond – as individuals, and as the Church?

            I think those questions – “Who do people say that I am?” and then, “Who do you say that I am?” – are always important to consider in light of what is going on in our lives and in the world around us. Because although aspects of God are unchanging, God is so complex and expansive that we might see God differently at any given time depending on what is most needful at that moment.  

            And so I ask you today, brothers and sisters: who do people you know say the Son of Man is, and who do you say that he is, today, at this time? Who is Jesus, when racist and anti-Semitic attitudes hit the streets and 1930s-style fascism makes a comeback? Who is Jesus, when our country is as divided as it has been since the Civil War? Who is Jesus, when even people proclaiming faith in Jesus disagree on what that faith implies, to the point of being diametrically opposed in the actions that stem from it? Who is Jesus?

Peter’s answer is that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. Jesus responds to Peter by telling him, “You are Peter (the word for “rock”), and on this rock I will build my Church.” In other words, Peter’s confession, his declaration of who Jesus is, becomes the basis of the Church of Christ. So clearly, this interaction also has something important to say about the character of that Church, who and how the Church is called to be. Who is this Church that proclaims Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God? This is an especially important question right now, as the Church discerns how to respond to a situation that reveals how very broken, divided, and hurting our country is.

 The first thing we can glean about the character of the Church, is that we are a Church that proclaims Christ even amidst conflicting gods. Let me explain. This story begins by saying, “Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi.” This is not a mundane detail of the story. Caesarea Philippi was a cesspool of sin, most of all, abusive political power and back-scratching, and religious idol-worship. It was named for two powerful political leaders, and it was the center of worship of the god, Pan. The city stood at the base of Mount Hermon, right against a large cliff known as “Rock of the Gods,” in honor of the many shrines build against it. In the center of Rock of the Gods was what was called “The Gate of

"Rock of the Gods" - a shrine to false gods - where Peter
made his confession of who Jesus is.

Hades,” because it was believed that this was where the god Ba-al would enter and leave the underworld. Against this backdrop of political power and religious idolatry, Jesus asks his disciples to state, loudly and clearly, who he is – as opposed to all that! When Jesus calls Peter “the rock,” it is over and against this rock of sinful false-god-worship. “YOU are the rock, Peter!” he says, “not all this mess! You [aka the Church] will be stronger than whatever false gods people are worshipping!”

So why does this matter to us as the Church today? Well, because false gods are still very much a threat to our faith. And no, I don’t mean Ba-al or Pan, I mean much more pervasive and sneaky gods – all those things that claim our attention or loyalty, that indeed pull us away from our relationship with God and from our Christian call to love and serve our neighbor. For example, like in Caesarea Philippi, we are sometimes guilty of putting our faith in political powers. Another common “god” is the god of wealth, putting our trust in money or material things. In light of recent events, the god of power has become pretty clear. We see this in the unnerving threat of nuclear war with North Korea. We see it in some politicians’ unwillingness to do what is right for fear of losing support from constituents or wealthy special-interest groups. We even see it in some church leaders who relish more in the size of their congregation and the influence of their position than in actually acting out the mission of Christ.

Other gods I’ve become aware of recently in my own life are the gods of privilege, comfort and safety. Even as I know that white people hold most of the power in this country – in politics, in academia, in the military, in sports, in the media and entertainment – and that my whiteness affords me a lot of privileges I did nothing to earn, I have a hard time doing anything to change that because those privileges make me very comfortable and make me feel very safe! Why would I want to give that up? And yet I know – they are false gods! I know this because if they were true gods they would bring life to all people, not just to white people like me. And when Peter proclaims Christ at the foot of that Wall of the [False] Gods, he is calling the Church of today to notice what false gods aim to have power over us – to recognize them, and then to proclaim Christ’s power over them!

The second trait of the Church we can see from Peter’s confession is, we are a Church who speaks up. When Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” – if Peter had remained silent, Jesus would not have declared the Church be built upon him. Speaking up was a pre-requisite to forming the Church. Jesus did not build His Church upon silence, or waiting to gather the facts, or weighing consequences – he built it upon boldness, upon willingness to say what is true – even, as we’ve seen, when our false gods might have us say otherwise.

And yet since that moment, the Church has often fallen short of this qualifying characteristic. When the Nazis rose to power in Germany, the Church did very little to stop it, aside from a few people speaking out. In fact, some churches even adapted their theology to be consistent with that of the Nazis, and preached their support of that movement that resulted in millions of deaths. The Church was very much complicit in that dark time in history.

A few decades later, during the Civil Rights Movement, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. did not shy from calling out the Church on her silence. To be silent, he said, was to side with the oppressor. In his famous Letter from Birmingham Jail, he wrote, “All too many have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained-glass windows.” In other words, he implored the Church to do what Peter did: to proclaim boldly the mission of Christ into the world, not stay safely tucked away in her sanctuaries, and ignoring the plight of the marginalized outside the doors.

Of course, it would be impossible for the Church to speak out boldly, especially against the false gods of our culture, without the final trait I want to highlight today, which is that, we are a Church who forgives and is forgiven. After Jesus informs Peter that he will build his church on him, he gives Peter what we call the “power to bind and to loose.” It is the power to forgive sins or not. Of course, that power ultimately belongs to Christ himself – what is being given to Peter here is the power to announce it. However the logistics work – it is so important that Jesus gives this power, indeed this gift, to the Church. Because it is a difficult calling, being the Church. It is risky. It pulls us out of our comfort zones. Being the Church is not about coming here each week to find rest for our souls and sing some songs and see our friends and pray. Those are all good things, and often that is exactly what we find here. But the call of the Church is so much more than that. The call of the Church is to boldly proclaim Christ, in word and deed, into a world desperate to know him. It is to look at the political power dynamics, and the false gods, and ways our attention is pulled away from God, and say, “Christ is greater than all of that!” It is to care deeply about the marginalized and the oppressed – the very people that Christ himself cared for – and to serve them, even if it is not in our personal best interest.

That call is so, so hard, and we will definitely fall short. And so Jesus also gave us the continuing promise that in the Church, we would also find forgiveness. He gave us the promise that we could come here, hear words of forgiveness and love and life, and be strengthened to go back out into the world and keep trying. And he gave us the authority to say, “Christ gives this gift to you, too,” to the people who need it the most. All of this is who and what the Church is – speaking up in faith, speaking out against powers that would draw us away from God, and receiving and offering forgiveness. We do all this in faith and hope that all the world would know the love of our living God.

            Let us pray… God our rock, you have called your Church to speak up and speak out against the forces that defy you, and you offer us forgiveness. Give us courage to live out this call every day. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.